Something Slimy
Buffy bounced into the Magic Box with a big smile for Giles, who barely glanced up from the newspaper he was reading. Buffy looked with raised eyebrows at Anya, who shrugged.
"Giles has been reading that paper and muttering for the last hour. I don't know what's so fascinating...reading about people you don't know doing things you don't care about."
"Must be something Watchery." Buffy stood in front of Giles and bent the paper down. "Don't tell me. Somehow dire portents have now found their way into the Sunnydale Times. Evil has found mass media. What will be next?" she asked in a mock frightened voice
He snapped the paper back into place. "There has been a series of incidents."
"Uh-oh. Incidents."
He admonished her with a look over the top of the newspaper. "There seems to be a marked increase in the number of robberies, murders, and lewd acts, all within the last few days."
"Lewd acts?" They all turned as Xander's voice came from the direction of the door. "What kind of lewd acts and why aren't I ever around when those are going on? Hey, Buff, Giles." He rounded the counter to give Anya a more personal greeting.
"Hi, Xander."
"Xander." Giles consulted a notebook near his elbow. "I've found in total three murders, fifteen reported burglaries, twelve fights, six instances of sexual acts performed in a public place, and the entire clientele of one bar arrested for nudity."
"Name please." Xander looked from one censoring face to another. "So I can avoid that place, of course."
"That does not include the rash of, shall we say, "questionable" acts I've noticed," Giles continued.
"Questionable, how?" Buffy asked.
"People bursting into song in the middle of the street. The newspaper section dedicated to engagement announcements has gone from half a page to three pages. One business had to close down for the day because so many of the employees did not report for work. Injuries and deaths that can be attributed to reckless acts such as car racing, bungee jumping, etc, have increased immeasurably. It's all much too coincidental."
"So, what, you think someone's doling out the band candy again?"
"Or someone has cast a spell. Or perhaps there's some sort of demon involvement."
Anya nodded. "Sounds like a Chaos demon."
Giles's eyes widened. "Yes. Of course. There must be one loose in Sunnydale."
Buffy straightened. "A demon. I'm up. So, where do I find it, what does it look like, and how do I kill it?"
"Oh, killing a Chaos demon is very easy," Anya said. "They're actually very passive, for a demon. You just have to avoid the slime."
"Slime?" Buffy wrinkled her nose and looked down at her red leather pants. "Okay, change of plans. I'm so not getting slime on these."
Anya opened her mouth, but Giles spoke first. "You must not get it anywhere on you at all, Buffy. It's coming into contact with the slime that makes people lose all their inhibitions. The effects only last a few hours, but quite a lot of damage can be done in that time."
They followed Buffy into the workout room to grab some weapons.
"So, people cut loose some. What's the big with that?" Xander asked as he grabbed a bag and began filling it with smaller knives and hatchets.
"This isn't simply a case of people becoming inebriated and acting somewhat moronic. The slime of a Chaos demon is easily spread and leaves a person prey to his basest desires. A - a person sees something he wants, he takes it. He desires a woman, he takes her. It tears away all the rules of society. With no rules, there is only - well...chaos. "
"So, slime bad. Got it." Buffy hefted a long-handled, wicked-looking axe. "This oughta keep him at arm's length. Xander, you with me?"
Xander grabbed a crossbow. "Right behind you. So, where would this bad boy be hiding?"
"Chaos demons are quite sociable creatures, really. You might try any of the more popular demon bars, especially the ones humans also frequent."
Xander turned to smile broadly at Anya. "Honey, I'm going bar-hopping. Don't wait up."
She stood on tiptoe to kiss him good-bye. "Be careful. Watch out for his antlers."
Buffy looked in surprise at Giles. "Antlers? This thing has antlers?"
"Yes, and you'll find he's quite adept at fighting with them. And the slime is secreted from the antlers."
"Great. Slimy and pointy. Come on, Xander."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Willy grunted as Buffy slammed him against a wall. "Slayer. Long time no see. How's it going?"
"Chaos demon. Have you seen him?"
"Chaos demon? They usually avoid towns with Slayers in them."
"This one isn't." She applied more pressure, making him wince as his face was ground against the wall. "Do we have to do this every time? Do you like pain or something? Just tell me what you know."
"Potter Street. Bar named The Blue Goat. Try that."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A couple, both in their mid-thirties and dressed in business suits, skipped by Buffy and Xander, giggling and holding hands. Two men rolled on the ground, fighting over the grinning woman who stood nearby. An alarm sounded, and seconds later a teenager ran by carrying a TV.
Xander turned to watch the fleeing thief. "I'd say we're heading in the right direction. Oh! Oh! Lewd act, two o'clock!"
Buffy turned to see a woman standing against a wall with a man kneeling in front of her, his head buried under her skirt. Buffy grabbed Xander's arm and forcibly pulled him around.
"Come on. I see the bar."
Xander and Buffy stood outside of The Blue Goat, their faces reflecting the same expression of disgust.
Xander sighed. "Now that's exactly the kind of place my mama warned me about." He brightened. "Let's go in."
"Remember, don't get slimed."
"Is it really necessary to remind me of that?"
"I'm just saying. I don't know if the world is ready for Uninhibited Xander," she said with a cheeky grin.
"Oh, and a wild and free Slayer is always good for a laugh. Remember how much fun it was having Faith around."
"Xander, my deepest desire is to go and buy those $125 shoes I saw the other day. The only thing in danger is my bank account."
"You are quite the hedonist, aren't you?"
"What can I say? Doesn't take much to please me." She turned businesslike. "Let's go."
She threw the door open and stood in the entrance, axe held in front of her at the ready. Several demons took one look at the armed Slayer and headed for the back entrance. Buffy swept her eyes around the dark bar, settling on a figure seated at a booth in the back. The few other customers who remained between her and it scrambled to get out of the line of fire. The demon looked towards the door at the commotion and his eyes widened.
"Slayer! Hello. Isn't this exciting? I've never met a Slayer before."
"You shouldn't have come to my town," she said.
"Now, let's be reasonable. I thought you were dead. I only found out you weren't when I got here."
"It turns out I'm kind of hard to kill. Bet we can't say the same about you." She began to cross across the room. "A wise demon would have turned right around and left."
He rose to his feet, holding his cloven hands up in front of him. "I was going to, but I had some friends to catch up on, you know. It would have been rude to leave without so much as a hello."
"Sucks for you."
Without warning, she swung the axe in a broad arc, aiming for his neck. He lowered his head, caught the handle in his antlers and yanked the axe out of her hands, flinging it against the wall behind him with a jerk of his head. Eyes wide, Buffy jumped back as droplets of slime flew off his antlers. The demon smiled and began a slow advance, head lowered slightly, slime oozing and dripping.
Buffy backed away and gestured behind her. "Xander, plan B."
Xander stepped to the side to get a clean shot, raised the crossbow and leveled it at the approaching demon, who drew to a halt about four feet away from Buffy.
"Let's not be hasty. I'll just finish my beer and leave the Hellmouth, okay?"
Buffy shook her head. "Sorry, but if I let one demon come, spread chaos and just leave, I'd have to let them all do that, now wouldn't I? And this place would be all chaosy and my job just gets harder. Xander."
Xander pressed the release, and the bolt flew across the room, embedding itself in the demon's shoulder. The demon howled, clutching the shaft of the blot. He screwed his face up in rage and strained his entire body and a sudden spray of slime shot from his antlers, pelting Buffy with shining droplets. She stood still for one horrified moment before swiping one hand across her face and flicking the stuff from her fingers.
"Okay. Ewww." She looked down at her matted clothes then up at the demon with an irritated frown. "You really shouldn't have done that."
She rushed the demon, pounding him with a swarm of hard punches, and he went down under the onslaught. She straddled him, held him down with one hand at his throat and held the other in the air. She twisted to look at Xander and he tossed a deadly looking dagger into her waiting hand. Bringing her hands together around the dagger, she plunged it into the demon's heart. She rose to her feet and stood looking at the demon in distaste.
"I think that's one dagger I don't need back." She pulled her sticky shirt away from her body, and a sudden thought made her turn to Xander. "Did you get any slime on you?"
He looked down at himself, shaking his head. "I don't think so." He looked back at her, eyes wide. "But you. You're covered in it. Eww...and that's a word I never thought I'd use in connection with you."
"I need to get home and take a shower. And burn these clothes. I knew I should have changed."
"I'll go with you." At her skeptical look, he spread his hands defensively. "Purely in a preventative capacity. As soon as we get to your house, I'll call Willow and have her come over."
"Look, I don't feel any different. Maybe it doesn't affect Slayers like it does other people."
"Still, we should keep an eye on you, just in case you start getting...happy."
"Cause who wants a happy Slayer, right?" she grumbled.
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah. Fine. Whatever. Just as long as nobody gets between me and a shower."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy threw her slimed clothes into the hall for Xander to dispose of, and jumped gratefully into the shower, where it took her three rounds of shampoo to get all the slime out of her hair. She knew she would never complain about vampire dust again. After slime, a little dust didn't seem quite so icky anymore.
Somehow, thinking of vampires just naturally led to thinking of Spike. As she let the water run over her body, she realized that she hadn't seen the vampire in several days. Since she had come back from the dead, he had kept his distance, always there when she needed a little hand with the slayage, but never intruding on her personal life. She knew Dawn still snuck out to see him, but she never said anything because she also knew her sister was completely safe with him. It was a great burden off her mind to know that there was someone else who would fight to the death for Dawn.
She had to admit, if only to herself, that Spike was turning into the next best thing to a decent human being. He was relatively dependable, especially when it came to being there for the violence and demon killing. He had lost some of his caustic attitude, but not so much that he became boring. She had on many occasions had to hide a smile at one of his gibes at Xander or Giles, and having the three of them together never failed to make for a lively evening, all slaying aside.
And, though he never actively hid his feelings for her, he also never pressured her for more. But she knew his love was just there, waiting for her should she choose to take it.
Which...she wouldn't. Because - well, because... Hello, vampire boyfriend. Been there, turned that evil.
Besides, she hated Spike. He was vicious and cruel and... so not like that lately. He was protective and caring of Dawn, even now, and though much of that seemed to be guilt-induced for what he perceived as his failure, she could tell he felt a genuine affection for her sister. Willow seemed to have a little soft spot for Spike. Even Xander had grown to have a grudging liking for him, and though they would never in a million years give up their verbal sparring, the taunts were much less pointed than they had been.
He was one of them now.
As horrified as he would be to be called a Scooby, he had become an integral part of the gang. It went without saying that he was strong, but he was also cunning and insightful, having an uncanny ability to get to the heart of matters. She had come to rely on him, to trust his advice.
To trust him.
With a start, she realized she was just standing there under the water, so she grabbed the soap and briskly began to wash, sternly telling herself to change the mental subject.
She ran a soapy hand up her arms, compiling a shopping list in her head, next making a list of housework she needed to complete, then deciding responsibility stuff was depressing, she let her mind wander. It just naturally drifted back to Spike, and she thought of the last time she'd seen him. They had battled a Kreiken demon, and its claws had ripped through Spike's shirt, baring most of his chest. For some reason, she couldn't remember how the fight had ended, but she had no problem visualizing exactly what his sleek, hard chest had looked like, with one small masculine nipple peeking through the torn black cloth.
She sighed dreamily.
The sound brought her back to the present, and she realized she was running her fingers in concentric circles around her own nipples, which had hardened into small, tight peaks. She quickly turned into the water and rinsed, rushing through the rest of her shower. She turned off the water and toweled off briskly, finding that she had to force herself to do it quickly and not linger on certain spots.
She wrapped the towel around her still-damp body and dried her hair, taking extra care, wanting to look as nice as possible for him no, not for him, never for him, for - for people, because she would be seeing people and it was important that she look nice. For people. All people. People of the world.
She finished with her hair - the people should like it like that - and wandered into her bedroom. Standing before her open closet, she glared at the clothes hanging there. Nothing fit her mood tonight. It seemed her wardrobe had become nothing but leather pants, and she wanted something...skirty. She dug through the hangers until she came to something shoved in the farthest reaches of the closet. She pulled it out to find the short sundress her mom had bought her before she died, telling her there might come a summer day when she was in the mood to be something other than a Slayer.
"Thank you, Mom."
She let the towel drop and held the dress against her, deciding that it was perfect. Perfect for what, she didn't let herself think about. She put it on the bed and searched through her drawers until she found the skimpiest pair of silk panties she owned. She slipped them on and crossed to her vanity to find the perfume Willow had mixed up especially for her, using oils she'd learned about in her magic training.
"Guaranteed to turn a man on, " Willow had stated with a proud smile. The smile had slipped. "Not that I've tested it, because, you know, don't go there anymore, but everything I've read said it's the next best thing to an aphrodisiac."
To date, she had never used it. Now was definitely the time. She dabbed the stopper behind her ears and dipped it into the valley between her breasts, pausing to inhale the warm, musky fragrance. She reached for her dress and pulled it over her head, adjusting the spaghetti straps as she turned to face the mirror. She moved this way and that, enjoying the slight flutter of the skirt against her thighs. She smiled in satisfaction, slipped into a pair of sandals, and headed for the door.
She was just reaching for the doorknob when she remembered Dawn. She couldn't leave her to come home to an empty house. She found the school's number and asked to speak to her sister, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited.
"Hey, Buffy. What's up?" Dawn's chipper voice asked.
"I've got some Slayer stuff to do. Can you spend the night with one of your friends?"
"Buffy, I'm almost fifteen years old. I think I can spend one night by myself."
"I'd feel better if you stayed somewhere else."
"But - "
"Dawn," she said in her best "I'm the big sister and you have to do what I tell you" voice.
"Okay, okay, I'll ask Cindy. Shouldn't be a big deal."
"Thanks. Have fun."
"Yeah, you too."
She hung up the phone and walked into the hallway, halting when she saw Xander walk from the dining room to the kitchen, phone in hand. Without thinking or questioning why she felt the need to avoid Xander, she stepped backwards into her room, tiptoed to her window, carefully raised it and crawled through.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Giles? It's me."
"Xander, where are you?"
"We're at Buffy's house. She got slimed."
"What? I expressly told you two to avoid the slime."
"Yeah, well, you left out the spraying antlers part."
"Xander - "
"Anyway...she took a shower and Willow's on her way over. If Buffy starts getting all party girlish, I think Willow's the only one who could control her. And maybe Spike, but so not going there."
"And you? Did you get any slime on you?"
"Clean as a whistle."
Xander caught a movement out the window out of the corner of his eye. He turned just in time to see Buffy drop from the roof and sprint away from the house.
"Oh, no."
"Xander?"
"Oh. Happy Slayer on the loose...gotta run. She's heading west."
"Xan-"
Xander disconnected, dropped the phone on the sofa and ran out the door, heading in the same direction he'd seen Buffy take. He got to the first intersection and looked in all three directions, seeing absolutely no sign of her. So, he did the only other thing he could think of.
He bellowed.
"Buffy!"
Something Bold
Spike lay sleeping on the stone bier when the door to his crypt flew open and crashed against the wall. With a muffled yelp, he rolled onto the floor and scrambled to his feet, almost falling again as he got tangled in his blanket.
"What the bloody hell - " His shout ended abruptly when he saw Buffy closing the door behind her, and he frowned in concern. "Buffy. What's wrong? Is Dawn all right?"
She stepped down into the crypt. "Dawn's fine. I just haven't seen you in a while, and that's when I start getting nervous, wondering what evil things you're up to."
"I was sleeping. Last I heard, that wasn't a crime, but I'm sure you can find some way of..."
His voice trailed off as he took in the way she was dressed and the slow, measured way she walked towards him. He saw her eyes sweep down his body and back up, and as she drew nearer, her scent hit him. She was wearing something sexy and sinful, something meant to lure the senses, but there was more. He could practically feel the pounding of her pulse, and he could smell her, underneath the fragrance, the hot, sweet, intoxicating smell of a highly aroused woman.
He was instantly hard.
"Buffy?"
She halted a few inches in front of him, and he could tell she was breathing heavier than normal. She raised one hand and he flinched, not sure what she was planning. She ran one fingertip down the scar in his eyebrow.
"Has anyone ever told you that's very sexy?"
He stepped back, a puzzled frown on his face. "Here now, what's going on?"
She moved closer. "Does something have to be going on?"
"Well...yeah!" He backed away again, coming up against the sarcophagus. "Is this some sort of test?"
She followed until there was nothing but a thin sliver of air between them. "A test for what, Spike? To see if you want me? I already know you do."
He leaned back, frowning down at her and trying to ignore the fact that he could tell she had no bra on under her dress. "Then what's the deal here? Will been getting into the love spells again?"
She shook her head, and pressed into him, and he nearly groaned at the feel of her young, warm body against his. "I haven't even seen Willow."
"So, let's talk to the little witch and see if she's been up to anything."
Buffy sighed, and Spike felt himself harden even more as her breath fanned across his neck.
"Does it even matter? You want me, now you can have me."
She shimmied slightly, and he felt the hard tips of her breasts move back and forth across his chest. Strangling a gasp, he put both hands on her shoulders and held her away from him.
"Buffy, you're not yourself."
She jerked away from his restraining hands, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Yes, I am. I'm completely myself. I'm sick of holding back, of denying what I feel. I died, Spike, and now I want to live. I want to feel alive. I want this. I want you."
She put both hands up to his face and held him there as she brought her mouth to his, kissing him hungrily, opening her mouth to him. With a moan, he closed his eyes and returned the kiss, slipping his hands around her back to pull her closer to him, one hand sliding into her hair to hold her head firmly in place so that he could take her mouth, greedily consuming her, tasting her warmth. She whimpered and pressed herself even closer to him, and a low growl sounded in his throat. He wrenched his mouth from hers and pulled his head back, holding her away from him by her hair when she tried to kiss him again.
"Are you sure about this? If you're going to turn away, do it now, Buffy."
She stared up at him, her breath coming short and quick.
"You want me to leave?" she asked, a challenge in her voice.
"No, but if this is not what you really want, I'd just as soon know now. And if you do want this, I want you to remember it was your choice."
Her hands dropped to his shoulders and she pushed against him. He resisted for the briefest of moments, but he clenched his jaw and allowed her to move away, a stark pain filling his eyes. He turned away, resting his hands on the tomb behind him, his head dropping forward as he fought to resist the nearly overwhelming urge to just grab her and take her, consequences be damned.
Buffy stepped back, lifted her hand and slipped one strap of her dress off her shoulder, then did the same with the other strap. A slight shake of her body, and the dress slid to the floor. She kicked it aside, toeing off her sandals as well. She squared her shoulders.
"I'm sure."
"What?" He whirled around to face her, and his eyes widened to see her standing there all but naked. "Bloody hell, woman!"
A puzzled look came to her face. "You know, I kind of thought this would be much easier."
His eyes ran the length of her body in a slow heated perusal, and his voice became a husky drawl. "Oh, I'm easy, luv." He licked his lips and his eyes returned to hers. "I just don't want to be seeing the business end of a stake when all's said and done and you get to regretting what you're doing here."
"I won't regret it."
"You just remember you said that."
She raised her eyebrows. "You want me to sign an affidavit?" She opened her eyes innocently wide. "I'm beginning to think you don't want to do this."
He advanced towards her, stopping within inches of her, close enough that he could feel the heat of her. He smiled, a lazily wicked smile, and she gasped as his hands shot out, grasping her by the hips and pulling her snug against him, pressing her against the clear evidence of just how much he wanted to do this.
"Think again," he said in a deep voice that tingled along her nerve endings.
He lowered his head and trailed light kisses across her shoulder and to her neck, nibbling on the sensitive flesh there.
She closed her eyes, tilting her head to the side, baring her throat to him. "I was afraid I'd have to resort to beating up on you to get you excited."
He raised his head and smiled with a flick of his eyebrows. "Next time, luv."
She bit her lip to keep from laughing and dropped her forehead against his shoulder, shaking her head and groaning, "Oh, God."
He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made his chest vibrate against hers. Without thinking, she turned her head, opened her mouth, and sank her teeth into his neck, a quick, hard bite.
He hissed and stiffened, and lowering his head, he muttered into her ear, "Oh, it's biting now, are we?"
He opened his mouth against her neck and let his fangs descend, raking them lightly along the vein that pulsed there. She placed both hands against his chest and with one great heave, she slammed him against a stone pillar and held him there stiff-armed. His fangs retracted as he grinned at her.
"Ah, now this is the Slayer I'm used to dealing with." His eyes dropped to her bare breasts. "Though I must say I approve of the new dress code."
She exerted a warning pressure. "Just keep the pointy teeth to yourself, Spike."
He shrugged. "Sauce for the goose and all that."
In a sudden move, Spike knocked her arm away from him and grabbed her, lifting her and swinging her around the side of the pillar, shoving her high up against the hard stone. Panting, she stared down at him, but his eyes were trained on the breasts heaving in front of him, and with a small sigh, his head came forward and he latched onto one pink nipple. He sucked her into his mouth, drawing hard and deep, and she gasped in a mixture of surprise and pleasure. But when she felt his teeth scrape against the sensitive flesh, she put her hands on his shoulders and thrust him away from her.
As he stumbled back, she dropped to the floor and followed him, barreling into him and shoving him to the floor. She stood over him, hands on her hips.
"I said no teeth."
Unrepentant, he laughed up at her. "It was just a nibble, luv."
He kicked one leg out, sweeping her feet out from under her, and she fell to the floor, the air rushing from her lungs with the impact. Before she could move, he was on her, pinning her down. He gave her a chiding look.
"And I wasn't quite done with my nibble."
He swooped down and caught her nipple between his teeth, gently working his teeth back and forth in a way that had nothing of pain and everything of pleasure in it, making her take a sharp breath, but she wasn't prepared to let him have the upper hand yet. She worked one arm free and, curling her fingers into his hair, she yanked his head back and rolled them both over so that she ended up sitting on his stomach. He put his hands behind his head and smiled up at her like a big predatory cat who had some poor quivering mouse within his hungry grasp.
"So, you like to be on top, do you? All right, that's fine by me, pet."
Deciding she didn't care for being the mouse in this scenario, Buffy made a motion to rise and he dropped the smile. His hand flew out and gripped her behind the neck and with one firm tug, he jerked her down to him and fused their mouths together. After one brief moment of resistance, she was kissing him back, running her hands over his chest and up to his face, holding him there while her tongue met and played with his. Desperate to feel his flesh against hers, she frantically grabbed at his shirt, pulling it out of his jeans and pushing it up, and he let go of her to help, separating his mouth from hers only long enough to pass the shirt over his head and throw it aside. Her mouth still clinging to his, she rubbed her chest against his, the unnatural coolness of him being replaced by the warmth of her, the heat of them. She felt his hands settle on her hips, and he urged her lower, powerfully holding her against his pelvis, and she rocked against him there, rhythmically pushing herself into him. She heard him moan, felt him lift his hips into hers, and she did it again, feeling powerful in a way that had nothing to do with Slayer strength.
All too soon, however, she realized that the power was not all hers. The soft, whimpering sounds she heard were coming from her. She was the one who broke his belt buckle in her haste to get it undone. This blind, aching need she had for him, someone who until a few months ago had been her mortal enemy...suddenly it was too much. Too strong. Too intense. With a sound that was almost a sob, she tore herself away from him, evading his clutching hands and scrambling to her feet. She backed away, leaving him momentarily stunned on the floor. But one look at her shaking hands, her flushed cheeks and the almost frightened look in her eyes and he understood, the way he always knew how she felt - even when she didn't.
He sat up without a word and began removing his boots, slowly, carefully, not looking at her. That done, he rose to his feet and reached for the button on his jeans, watching his hands unfasten it, and pulled the zipper tab downward. He did look at her then, gauging her reaction as he eased his jeans off his hips and pushed them down. He noted that, though the anxious look didn't completely leave, she also didn't look like she was about to flee at any moment. And her eyes seemed to be fascinated by the movements of his hands, widening as his erection was revealed, and he saw her take a long, deep breath.
He stepped out of the jeans and walked towards her, feeling himself grow harder and fuller under her gaze. She backed away as he neared, and he made no sudden moves, just a steady, relentless pursuit of her until she came up against a wall and halted. He put one hand on the wall to either side of her and, leaning down, placed a soft kiss on her cheek, and another, closer to her mouth. Her hands came up and curled around his forearms, and she tilted her head to the side, closing her eyes and rubbing her cheek against him. He nuzzled the corner of her mouth with his, and with a moaning sigh, she turned her head and kissed him fully, opening her mouth, inviting him in. He pressed his lower body against her, letting her feel him, and then hummed with satisfaction as she pressed back, moving her body against him. She put her hands on his chest, this time not to push him away, but to touch him, feel him, learn him.
He took one hand from the wall and slid it downward, from her shoulder to her breast with its tight little nipple, across the smooth skin of her belly and right into her panties. Still wildly kissing him, she spread her legs for him, arching into his hand, and as he went past the curls covering her mound, he found her hot and wet and ready for him. He massaged her with the heel of his hand and she ripped her mouth from his, gasping in a sharp breath of air.
She gave a whimpering cry of protest when he removed his hand, but then she realized he was lowering her panties, and she moved her body, desperately trying to help him. She lifted one leg to step out of the opening of one side of the panties, bringing her thigh up to rest on his hip, and they forgot about the panties all together as the tip of his erection brushed against her damp curls. Spike lifted her other thigh to his hip and then reached between them, positioning himself at her opening, and with a slow, steady push, inch by inch, he slid into her until he couldn't go any further.
They both moaned.
He tried to wait, tried to give her time to adjust to the size of him, but the need to move grew too great and he pulled back, almost all the way out, until only the tip of his erection remained within her. He sank deep again, letting out a groaning sigh as she clamped tight around him. He put his face into the crook of her neck, sucking lightly on the taut muscle there.
"Oh, God, Buffy, you feel so good."
He tensed as she moved her hips in a circular motion then moved forward, grinding her hips against him. He trembled when she squeezed him tight with her inner muscles. But when he heard the pleasure-filled sigh fall from her lips, he lost what little control he had left and unleashed the longing he'd had for her for so long. Bracing his hands against the wall, his hips began to plunge within hers, long, hard strokes that she met with equal fervor, crying out each time their bodies slammed together. He felt her nails digging into his back, the slight pain only serving to make him move faster, harder, deeper until, with a soft wail, she suddenly stiffened, sharp gasps coming from her throat as she arched into him, squeezing her powerful legs around him in a bone-crushing grip. He kept moving, faster and faster, drawing it out as long as he could until the strong spasms of pleasure within her sent him over the edge as well.
She went limp against him and his arms dropped swiftly around her to support her. She rested her head against him, taking huge, gulping breaths of air, and he rained little kisses on her neck and shoulder, enjoying the little tremors running through her body, feeling her continue to pulse around him. She moved her hips experimentally against him and he heard the breath catch in her throat the moment she realized that he was still hard within her.
"Spike?"
"Yes?" He smiled against her neck and licked the vein pulsing there.
"You're still..."
He flexed himself within her, grinning when she gasped. "Yes, I am."
"But you...I mean, I felt you..."
"Come?" She nodded and he moved slowly within her again. "Oh, I did, luv. But I'm just getting started."
"Oh, God," she said faintly.
He lifted his head to look at her and laughed at the mixture of trepidation and intrigue on her face.
"This was so not in any of the Slayer training manuals."
"Well, it's not something we spread around. Fellows find out about this, they all want to be turned and what's the fun in that?" He grinned when she rolled her eyes at him. "Hold tight, now."
Still nestled snugly within her, he gathered her close and started to carry her across the crypt to the tomb he slept on, but every step he took drove him deep within her, and she felt the hunger growing again. After only a few steps, she was clinging to him and rubbing her breasts against his chest, and when she began a rhythmic sucking on his neck, he took a detour and collapsed on a stone bench.
Buffy leaned back and immediately took full advantage of her new position, getting her legs under her to slowly rise above him, drawing herself along his length, sighing at the exquisite feel of him. Spike placed his hands on her hips, needing to touch her but letting her control the pace. She leisurely sank back down, smiling as a swirl of her hips made him moan and arch up into her. She lifted herself again, gripping him tightly in a hot, wet glide of soft flesh on hard.
"Buffy. Oh, God, Buffy."
Pressing his back against the wall behind him, he strained up into her, his fingers digging into her hips. She grabbed his hands and slid them up her body to her breasts, cupping his fingers around her, then closed her eyes and arched herself into his hands. He massaged her breasts then took the nipples between his fingers and plucked, doing it again when he felt her clench around him. He leaned forward and took one nipple in his mouth, a satisfied hum reverberating in his chest when the move made her surge against him. She began to move to the rhythm of his mouth, faster and faster, until with one hard push into him, she was crying out her pleasure, and with a groan, Spike followed her.
Spike released her breast and pulled the suddenly boneless Slayer against his chest, running his hands in soothing strokes up and down her back while she tried to catch her breath, turning her cheek into his shoulder like some trusting child. In a sudden move, she pushed away from him, scrambling off his lap to stand wide-eyed in front of him. He spread his arms along the ledge behind him and grinned cockily at her, following her eyes to the erection that still stood hard and strong before them.
"Damn," she breathed. "That thing never goes away."
"Why don't we see what can be done about it?" He rose and took her hand, leading her towards his bed, and she followed in a docile daze.
"You're going to kill me. That's it. You always wanted to and now you're going to do it. It's an evil plot."
"You came to me, remember?"
"Even eviler. Really evil because your chip won't even activate as you slowly kill me."
"I highly doubt you can die from an excess of pleasure." He halted next to the tomb and turned to flash her a brilliant smile. "But we can give it a go if you'd like."
As she groaned at the possibility, he swept her off her feet and deposited her on her back on the sarcophagus, and she propped herself on her elbows to see what he would do next. Her head followed him as he circled the tomb in an unhurried saunter, his eyes roving her, memorizing the look of her lying in his bed. He came to the conclusion that she looked right at home there and that he was going to do his damnedest to make sure it became a regular event. He climbed onto the tomb near her feet and made his way up in a slow, sensual crawl, and she let herself fall back against the pillow as he loomed above her. He lowered himself to rest against her, nudging his way between her legs, and she allowed them to fall apart, closing her eyes as a pleasant lethargy began to take hold of her.
Spike rubbed himself between the Slayer's legs, sliding his erection along her wet, swollen flesh, hearing her sigh beneath him. He dropped his head, kissing his way from her neck to her breasts, nuzzling her, playing with one nipple with his tongue, and he drew her into his mouth. He sucked in tandem with the movements of his hips, slow, almost lazy.
Buffy yawned.
Spike released her nipple with an audible popping sound and raised his head to stare at her. "Am I boring you?"
She shook her head. "No, no, not boring. Go on."
He lowered his head, his hips beginning to move again, when the unmistakable sound of someone stifling a yawn filled the crypt. With a disbelieving grunt, he jerked away from her. She clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes stared apologetically over it at him.
"I'm sorry. I'm just suddenly so..." She yawned again. "...sleepy."
With a defeated sigh, he slumped against her and rolled to the side, carrying her with him so she rested against him. She snuggled up to him and he wrapped his arms around her.
"It's all right, go to sleep." His pursed his lips. "I'm sure it's been hard, tiring work resisting me all this time."
He waited, expecting to receive the normal rolling-eyed dismissal of that claim, but all he got was another sigh and snuggle, and looking down, he saw that she was already asleep. He sighed himself, part of him glad that she finally trusted him enough to fall asleep with him, the other part - a part that grew smaller and smaller every day - horrified that the Big Bad had been reduced to little more than a pillow for the Slayer.
"This gets out, I'm never living it down."
With another great sigh, he closed his eyes, drew Buffy close, and went to sleep himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Something Wet
Xander met the others in the Magic Box, and judging by their expressions, he figured their search had been just as fruitless as his. He slumped onto one of the stools.
"Well, she wasn't at the mall, she wasn't at the Bronze, the only place I didn't look was the library, but somehow I doubt that one."
Willow looked to Giles. "So, how long does the slimy last?"
Frowning, Giles glanced up from a Watcher's journal. "I'm not entirely certain. The effects on a normal human only last a few hours at most, usually followed by a period of a deep, almost comatose sleep, but I have yet to find any cases of a Slayer's having been - ah...slimed. This may be a first. Or, I may yet find something useful in here."
Willow hopped up. "Okay, while Giles looks in the journals, the rest of us need to keep looking for her. I'll take the campus, maybe she's gotten a hankerin' for her old stomping grounds. Xander, Anya, start checking out the bars and clubs around town. Tara, can you go make sure Dawn is okay? I don't want her to worry."
Tara nodded, and Xander rose to his feet with a sigh.
"You know, if we're lucky, she's just somewhere sleeping this off."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She was sleeping.
Still sleeping.
Spike had woken up quite a while ago, opening his eyes to a dark crypt, but immediately distracted by the unaccustomed feel of a living body draped across him. He had savored the sensation, basking in the heat, listening to her deep, even breathing, inhaling the warm smell of her. After a while, he had carefully removed himself, tenderly covered her with a blanket, and moved about the crypt lighting the candles, wanting to be able to see her as well as feel her, content for the moment just having her there. A little voice in his head wondered why she had come to him, afraid that this was not real, that when she awoke she would somehow take it all back, but he told that pesky, questioning voice to sod off and continued to enjoy having the woman he loved here with him.
For a while.
Eventually, he began to make "accidental" noises, knocking a book off a table, moving a chair, adjusting the lid of the next tomb with a huge grinding sound, but she slept through it all.
"Bloody hell, woman," he grumbled. "What kind of Slayer sleeps so deeply? An army of demons could have just marched through the door."
Deciding direct action was in order, he climbed back onto the tomb with her and stretched out next to her, one hand propping his head up, and slowly trailed the other hand down her side. She twitched and buried her head deeper into his pillow.
Spike smiled and put his lips near her ear. "Buffy. Rise and shine, luv."
He dropped light, lingering kisses along her neck, moving the blanket aside to get to her soft, sleep-warm skin. He pushed gently against her shoulder and she rolled to her back, and suddenly pert, young breasts were staring up at him. An eager growl sounded in his throat and he dipped his head and took one sweet nipple in his mouth.
Buffy slowly drifted awake from the best sleep she had had since she returned. She had been dreaming that she was lying in a bright, sunny field of flowers. She had felt alive and free, laughing as beautiful, multi-colored butterflies fluttered around her. One had come in close, flapping its silken wings against her ear, her neck, her shoulder. But then the butterfly had made a growling sound and settled on her breast, creating sensations no butterfly should be able to create.
She opened her eyes, and for the briefest moment, she had no idea where she was. But there was no mistaking the candle-lit crypt or the beached blonde head currently at her breast, or the lips that were doing such incredible things to her. Suddenly, the memory of all they had done came flooding back to her, along with the memory of the demon and the slime.
Slime. The slime. It's the slime.
She closed her eyes with an internal sigh of relief, while a real, pleasure-induced sigh fell from her lips.
Spike raised his head, smiling a soft, sweet smile to see her awake. "Hello there. Sleep well?"
She nodded, shifting a bit on the hard stone. "Actually, for the first time sleeping on a tomb, I slept pretty well." Seeing one interested brow arch, she hastened to add, "Not that this is a first time, you know, like there's going to be a second time or - or a third. So not the habit forming here."
His smile turned serious, and he lifted one hand to brush the hair back from her face. "Oh, this is one habit I wouldn't mind forming at all," he murmured, his voice soft and deep.
Her eyes met his, and she opened her mouth but found that she absolutely could not think of a thing to say, so she snapped it shut. It opened again on a whisper of air when she felt his lips feather across her cheek and tease the corner of her mouth. She turned her head to meet his lips, and, God, it had been way too long since anyone other than Dawn had kissed her, way too long since she had felt the touch of someone who loved her and wanted her. This kiss was a gentle caress, and as Spike's hand tenderly cradled her cheek, she forgot all her attempts at rationalizing her presence there and gave herself to the exquisite feel of him.
Spike's mouth left hers, drifting across her cheek and down to her neck, his hand moving to curve around her upper arm. He slid one leg between hers, his foot rubbing against the back of her calf, and she wrapped her leg around his and arched against him, and Spike could feel the heat growing in her and the faint scent of her arousal came to him. With a low moan, he rolled on top of her, his hips sliding between her legs, and Buffy wrapped her arms around his shoulders to pull him close. He rocked his pelvis against hers, and suddenly she was feeling more than just how excited he was. She put her hands flat against his shoulders and pushed.
"I have to go."
His head jerked up, disbelief plain on his face. "What?"
"I have to go."
"Now?" He looked towards the darkened windows. "It's late. Can't you wait until morning?"
She shook her head. "No, really can't wait."
"Not even for a tiny bit longer?" His eyes met hers, silently pleading, and then he leaned forward to press a coaxing kiss against her lips. "Please?"
"Can't."
He tilted his head to the side, puzzled by her sudden change, but seeing the resolute expression on her face, he sighed and nodded.
"Right then. Time to go."
He rolled off of her and hopped off the tomb, sprawling into his chair with as nonchalant an air as he could manage with his gut twisting inside him.
Buffy sat up, clutching the blanket against her chest.
"Spike..."
"No need for platitudes, pet. Figured you'd be leaving right quick once you woke up."
She sighed. "Spike, remember back when you were a living person? A functioning living person?
He stared blankly at her.
She waved her hand in a meaningful circle. "With certain bodily functions?"
Comprehension dawned, along with an overwhelming relief. "Oh, that."
"Yes, that. And last I heard, crypts don't come equipped with bathrooms, hence, me, having to go."
"Well, then, that's not a problem. We can go to the cemetery manager's house."
"I am so not barging into someone's house just to pee."
He grinned at the horror on her face. "He won't be there. The man is too frightened to stay there overnight."
She threw him a pointed look and he widened his eyes, all innocence.
"We have an arrangement. He lets me use his shower and his laundry facilities and I don't eat him. Everybody's happy." When she continued to stare skeptically at him, he shrugged and admitted. "He doesn't know I can't hurt him. You'd be amazed at what flashing a fang or two will get you."
"I'll bet." She slid off the tomb, wrapping the blanket around herself. "Okay, let's go."
They dressed and headed for the cemetery manager's house, which was situated near the west entrance. Walking side by side, Buffy could feel Spike sneaking sidelong looks at her, and finally he reached down and took her hand in his, lacing his fingers through hers. She looked down at their joined hands, finding the sensation not at all unpleasant and somehow familiar. It wasn't the memory of holding hands with Riley, because his hand had been big and warm. Angel's had been cool - no, not going there.
It tickled at her brain until it finally clicked. Last year, when Willow had cast the spell on them and they had been in lo - um, wanting to get married, everywhere they went, he had held her hand.
He was a hand-holder.
The Big Bad Evil Vampire likes to hold hands.
God, that was...cute. And sweet. And so not how she was used to thinking of Spike. He was brash, and violent and - and obnoxious. Sweet and Spike did not a good couple make. Nope, that Chaos slime was making her all loopy and crazy and she would never think of him as - as -
Spike had been watching the play of expressions over her face. "What?"
She started. "What? Oh. Nothing. Just thinking. Thoughts. Nothing thoughts. Thoughts that mean nothing."
His mouth opened, but before he could speak, they heard a shrill scream coming from outside the cemetery. Buffy looked longingly in the direction of the cemetery manager's house then sighed in resignation.
"Duty calls."
Another terrified shriek sounded and they started running. Deciding to take the quickest route, Buffy ran straight for the wall lining this side of the cemetery. She halted next to the wall and without being told, Spike cupped his hands to give her a boost. She put one foot in his hands and he tossed her upwards. She flew up, flipped over the wall, and landed in front of a crouching, terrified girl. Hearing a growl behind her, Buffy motioned to the girl.
"Go. Now."
The girl gave a sobbing cry of relief and ran in the opposite direction. Buffy swirled to face a large, nasty-looking demon who was not pleased to see his evening meal escaping. He snarled angrily, and saliva flew from his snout.
Buffy grimaced in distaste. "You know, I'm not exactly thrilled to see you either. And, kinda in a hurry here, so can we get this over with?"
As she advanced, she saw Spike drop to the ground behind the demon, and when the vampire grabbed him by the arms to hold him, she let loose with a flurry of punches to the head. With a roar of pain and rage, the demon twisted his body with a strong jerk, flipping Spike off of him, and the vampire rolled several feet, slamming into the wall with a grunt.
The demon launched himself at Buffy, snarling and oozing, and they both went down. He growled above her, snapping at her with a multitude of large, blunt teeth, rivulets of slime dripping onto her dress. Buffy struggled beneath him, trying to get a good enough grip on him to throw him off, turning her head aside to avoid his teeth. She flinched when some of the demon's drool dribbled onto her neck.
"Okay, " she ground out through gritted teeth. "When did this become Slime Buffy Day?"
She finally managed to get one hand up to the beast's throat when it was abruptly plucked off of her, one claw ripping a long tear through the side of her dress, and Buffy watched as Spike smashed the demon into the wall headfirst. It lay on the ground, momentarily stunned, but with a shake of its head and one last growl for them, it went limping away. Buffy scrambled to her feet, prepared to follow it and finish it off, but Spike stopped her with one hand on her arm.
"Wait."
"Spike, I have to kill it."
"Some other time. Right now, we have to get that monster's spittle washed off of you."
She pulled away. "It can wait. I've had worse." She wrinkled her nose. "Believe me, I've had worse."
"It can't wait, Buffy. That particular demon likes its food...soft. Its saliva is made to digest the food before it eats it."
"And a great big eww for that."
"Where did it get you?"
She looked down mournfully. "He ruined my dress."
"Forget the bloody dress. Is any on your skin?"
"There's some on my neck. My hands. A little on my legs. And, ugh, I think it's dripping down my back."
Spike grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the cemetery. "Come on. Wherever it touched you will start to burn soon."
"Have I mentioned how much I'm not liking slime demons?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike led her to the two-story house, retrieving a key from a loose brick in the wall to unlock the door. He showed her to a small half-bath, leaving her there while he went upstairs to the master bath to find her a cloth and towel to clean with. Buffy, realizing exactly how long it had been since she had used the bathroom, finished quickly and with great relief. Since Spike hadn't returned when she came out, she went up the stairs, following the sound of running water through a large bedroom and into the bathroom, her eyes immediately zooming in on the pile of black clothes on the floor.
"Spike?"
"Yeah?"
"What are you doing?"
"I thought it would be better for you to take a shower, make sure you've gotten it all off."
"Okay. And why are you in the shower?"
He poked a wet head around the edge of the shower curtain. "I thought you might need a bit of help, to scrub your back or...other parts." He flicked his eyebrows for emphasis, as though she didn't know exactly which parts he might scrub.
"You know, I've been taking showers all by myself for years now."
"And that's a very sad thing, too. But, can't change the past, luv." He grinned as she shook her head and rolled her eyes, but all humor fled when he saw her rub her neck. He jerked his head towards the shower. "Come on. Get in." And he disappeared back into the shower.
Feeling the skin of her neck start to irritate, Buffy quickly shed her clothes and stepped into the shower. Though she half expected Spike to make some comment or leer at her nudity, she was surprised and oddly touched to find him all business. He already had a cloth soaped up, and he pulled her under the water, concentrating on washing the spots that were starting to turn pink, rinsing and repeating the procedure to make sure the saliva was all gone. He lightly touched the reddest blotch on her neck, concerned.
"Does it hurt?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No, not really. It just feels sort of sunburned."
"Poor baby." He lowered his head to brush a kiss across the mark. "Better?"
Nodding, Buffy closed her eyes, and Spike proceeded to kiss every red spot, moving behind her to get to the ones on her back. Buffy, standing within the hot spray of water, shivered as his lips moved across her back. He took the soap and rubbed it within his hands then slowly slid his hands in circles on her back until a rich, thick lather covered her. He swept his hands down her arms and back up before kneeling behind her to get to her legs, taking great care to make sure no part of her skin went untouched. He leaned in and plopped a kiss on each cheek of her ass before soaping it up too. He rose and reached above her to adjust the shower nozzle so it ran down her back, washing the suds away.
He soaped his hands again and slid them under her arms to her front, cupping her breasts in his slippery fingers. He rubbed the soap around, and Buffy allowed her head fall back against his shoulder, content to let him play while the water beat down on the two of them. He moved closer to her, and she could feel his erection pressing into her back.
His hands slid down her stomach in random swirls, and one crept down to spread soap bubbles between her legs. She widened her stance, spreading her legs to give him complete access, and smiled without opening her eyes.
"Spike, I really don't think any of made it down there."
He nibbled lightly on her shoulder, his hand continuing to rub gently. "Just being thorough, pet."
"Uh-huh."
"Can't be too careful."
He let some water in, rinsing away most of the lather, finding that the way was still smooth and slick, only now it was from her, not the soap. He heard the pace of her breathing increase, and her hips began to move with his hand, pushing into it. He sucked gently on the curve of her shoulder just as his middle finger slowly slid inside her. Her breath hitched in her throat, and he pulled back out, tracing the opening of her body before gliding back in. Back out, and he added another finger, in and out, sucking on her neck in time to the movements of his fingers, growling softly at the incredible hot, wet feel of her.
Buffy took several shaky, shuddery breaths, amazed that she had become this aroused, this quickly. That Chaos slime really put the whammy on me was the last semi-rational thought she had before he changed the angle of his hand so that the knuckle of his thumb pressed against her clitoris with each inward thrust of his fingers and all thought just floated away.
Spike heard her suck in a sharp gasp, and he took her weight as her legs went weak, never stopping the in and out of his fingers, gradually moving faster and faster. He could feel the blood rushing hot and hard through her body, could sense the tension as she wound tighter and tighter, reaching for the ultimate pleasure. He moved his lips up to her ear and spoke in a deep, gruff voice.
"Buffy. Come for me, luv."
With a sudden cry, she did, clamping tight around his fingers, her body shaking with the strength of her release. Spike maintained the movements of his fingers and the pressure until he felt her go limp against him. He eased his fingers out of her but continued to stroke the area gently, kissing her neck and shoulder as he waited for her to catch her breath. She released a long breath and made a move to step away from him.
He clutched her close. "Don't go."
She turned her head to look back at him. "I'm getting all wrinkly and - "
Her words cut off when he claimed her mouth with his in a long, drugging kiss. She raised one of her arms and gripped the back of his head, holding him close, and he used the hand on her stomach to press her back against him, rubbing her against his erection. Still kissing him, her tongue dancing with his, she reached behind her back, moving her hand between them until she found him. Spike groaned deep in his throat as her hand closed firmly around him. She squeezed him once and let go, and Spike pulled his mouth from hers with a sound that approached a whimper.
"No, God, please don't stop."
"I'm not."
She turned to face him, solemnly meeting his anxious eyes as she reached for the soap, swirled it around in her hand a couple of times, and put it back. She pulled him back to kiss her and took him in her now soapy hand, sliding slowly up and down his erection, feeling it surge in her palm. She ran her thumb up the sensitive underside and around the tip, gauging his pleasure by the sounds he made in his throat. She slid her hand back down and squeezed the base, and Spike moaned and broke the kiss, leaning back against the shower wall for support.
Buffy brought her hand up, and down, watching his face, seeing him grimace with pleasure, experiencing an odd little thrill at the effect she was having on him, making someone who didn't have to breathe pant with need. She increased the speed of her hand, adding a little twist of her wrist, doing it again when he gasped and pushed his hips into her hand. She leaned forward, planting kisses along his neck and across his chest, moving down to find his nipple, giving it a tiny lick when she did. He jerked.
"Oh, God, " he rasped.
Never stopping her hand, she licked him again, and this time the sound he made was definitely a whimper, and she felt his hands come up and dive into her wet hair, holding her head against his chest. She opened her mouth around his nipple and sucked, and sucked again when she felt him twitch in her hand. With every pull of her mouth, she pulled with her hand, faster and faster, until with a hoarse groan, Spike stiffened and bucked with his release.
He relaxed against the wall, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes while he recovered, his arms dropping to hold her loosely against him. Buffy leaned against him, languorously rubbing his chest with one hand and nuzzling her face into his neck. She snuck a little peek downward and smiled in satisfaction to see that she'd finally managed to make Little Spike take a break.
The water began to run a bit cooler and she shivered. "I think we're running out of hot water here."
He reluctantly let her go, and they stepped out of the shower. He handed her a towel, wrapping one around his hips. She bent over slightly and ruffled the towel over her hair, trying to get the majority of the water out. She straightened quickly when she felt Spike step behind her and press himself against her back, and she ruefully noticed that Little Spike had apparently gained his second wind.
"My God, don't you ever get enough?"
"Of you? Not bloody likely."
He grasped her by her hips and twirled her around to face him, pulling her towards him and kissing her hungrily. She was just wrapping her arms around his neck, all objections drained away, when a loud, rumbling gurgle filled the room. Spike moved back, looking at her with raised eyebrows. She shrugged rather sheepishly.
"I haven't eaten all day."
"Well, can't have that. Let's get you something to eat." Eyes sparkling beneath flickering brows, he curled his tongue behind his teeth to suppress a grin. "Have to keep your strength up."
Giving him an exasperated look, she looked around for her dress, bending to gingerly pick it up. She held it between her thumb and forefinger, disgust wrinkling her nose.
"I can't wear this."
"We can throw it in the wash if you'd like. Maybe order us up some food while we wait."
"Sounds good, especially the food part."
She wrapped her towel around her body and rolled her dress and panties in another one, being careful not to touch the sticky parts.
She looked up to find Spike watching her.
"What?"
His only response was a slow, suggestive smile and his eyes made a journey down her body that was so intense she could almost feel it.
"Food," she said sternly.
"It's going to take a while to get here."
"Well, then, actually ordering it would be a good thing." He made a face and turned to follow her orders. "And put some clothes on."
He flashed a wicked smile her way. "Distracting you, am I?"
"Go." She pointed towards the door. "Wait."
He halted, looking hopefully over his shoulder.
"Is there a robe or something I can wear?"
"No need to bother on my account."
She stared at him, raising her brows. He grinned and sighed dramatically.
"Didn't think so." He juggled the boots and clothes and handed her his T-shirt. "Here, you can wear this. "
"Thank you."
She took the shirt and pulled it over her head, not sure how she felt about wearing it. Somehow, wearing his clothes, something he had just been wearing, that smelled like him...it just felt too intimate, too personal. Which was really strange after the things they'd done, but there it was.
She realized he was still standing in the doorway and she looked up to see him smiling at her, not the lascivious smiles of before, but a warm, happy smile. She had seen similar, more brotherly looks directed Dawn's way, but he'd been very careful not to show too much affection with Buffy. Before now. Before she gave him reason to think he could.
She looked back down without returning the smile, fiddling with the bundle in her hands, and she missed how his expression changed, the happiness fading, fleetingly replaced by pain and a stark loneliness before Spike carefully schooled his expression to a bland friendliness.
"Right then. Food. Any preference as to what kind?"
"Anything, as long as it's edible and it gets here quick."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~