AN: Continues almost immediately after the events of "The Way a Vamp Loves His Car", in which Spike had found a morose Buffy drinking at the Bronze. He brought a very drunk Slayer home and put her to bed in spite of her having accused him of loving his car more than he loves her – a violation of their unspoken agreement to spend comfortable time together without acknowledging the baggage of his feelings for her. The evening ended with her quiet acknowledgement that she knows he loves her. There was some discussion about Spike's teaching Buffy to drive – although not in his vehicle.
Unlike the prequel, which was a very possible Season Six missing scene ficlet, this one veers off canon almost immediately and goes to another, slightly less angsty Season Six.
Baby, You Can Drive My Car
Chapter One
Her uncharacteristic knock was the first warning that Buffy was outside his crypt. He threw himself onto the couch, trying to appear relaxed and casual as he called out, "It's open, Slayer."
Searching for some sign of her mood, he studied her face in the flickering light from the television. He was expecting anger, embarrassment, perhaps even sadness that she had not been able to drown her sorrows as fully as she'd hoped.
What he got was something he'd never expected.
"I'm sorry."
Her voice was soft, her eyes downcast as she slowly walked toward him. Spike cocked his head and studied her for a full minute before replying.
"What are you sorry for, love?" he asked, sitting up and leaning forward.
She frowned at him in confusion, then continued, "I'm sorry I threw up on your car, and I'm... I'm sorry I said... " She allowed her voice to die, then, with a determined lift of her chin she brought her eyes up to meet his. "And I'm sorry I acted like I... like I don't... I mean, I know you do... but I just... I'm sorry, okay?"
With a rush of warmth, he realized that she was apologizing for trying to use his feelings for her, and he sank back against the cushions – momentarily nonplussed. He recovered himself quickly when it appeared that she was going to leave without saying any more, leaping to his feet and moving to intercept her.
"Would you like something to drink, pet? I could look in the fridge—"
Her shudder and the dismayed look on her face brought a rueful smile.
"I'm guessing that's a 'no', then?"
"A world of 'no'," she agreed quickly.
She wandered to a shelf and ran her fingers through the dust there, still uncharacteristically quiet and still. He watched her, indecision keeping him frozen in place while his every instinct was urging him to engage her in some way before she decided to leave. When she continued to move slowly around the crypt, touching an object here, stroking one there and gradually working her way toward the door, he finally moved.
Placing himself as subtly as possible between her and the door to the outside world, he asked softly, "What can I do for you, Buffy?"
"What makes you think I want you to do something for me?" she responded with a guilty start and a trace of her usual asperity. "Maybe I just wanted to... to visit you for a while." When he didn't answer, she asked in a softer voice, "Is... is that okay? If I just hang out here?"
He cocked his head and stared at her just long enough to see the uncertainty on her face begin to change to genuine sorrow, then moved swiftly. He caught her just as she tried to push past him to the door, grabbing her arms and holding her tightly. She struggled briefly, her face turned away and her lip trembling while he tried to read what was going on in her head.
Very slowly, giving her plenty of time to object, he pulled her closer until he could slide his arms around her to form a protective cocoon. He held her loosely, daring to lower his head to inhale the freshly shampooed scent of her hair and murmuring, "You know you're always welcome here, love. You don't need to ask."
With a soft sigh, she relaxed her tense shoulders and dropped her head onto his chest. She didn't move her own arms, but made no objection when he pulled her in closer and turned the loose embrace into a genuine hug. For long minutes they stood there; the now-harmless vampire famed for killing slayers and the slayer who had slain the Master, sent Angelus to hell, defeated a hellgod and come back from the grave.
Spike would have stayed there until he fell down from exhaustion, just allowing her physical presence to fill his senses and her willingness to accept his comfort filling his heart; however, with a small sigh, she eventually straightened up, and he immediately released her. She gave him an embarrassed glance out of the corner of her eye as she moved away from him and back into the interior of the crypt.
Without acknowledging what they'd just shared, she walked to his 'kitchen' and opened the refrigerator. When she saw the bottles of water and Diet Coke, she turned to him and raised one eyebrow in a close imitation of his own, patented, knowing look.
"Expecting company?" she asked, taking out one of the Diet Cokes and popping it open.
"More like hoping," he responded, almost shyly, reluctant to let her know how hopefully he'd been keeping the drinks in his home since her return from the grave.
With a slight flush at his words, she looked away and began wandering around the crypt again, taking the occasional sip from the can as she strolled. When she approached the open entrance to the lower level, she paused and stared down into the darkened room, remembering the only time she'd been down there. Cursing himself for not having covered the entrance to his bedroom, Spike waited with resignation for the memories of his failed attempt to prove he loved her to remind her of what he was and to send her running from his home.
She surprised them both by turning to him and asking brightly, "So, chained up any other girls lately?"
He gaped at her for a second, then caught the twinkle in her eye. Recovering quickly, he leered and licked his lips.
"Vampire, love. I see one, I chain her up. It's what we do. Jus' haven't caught one yet tonight."
Her quiet laugh gave him courage and he continued, "'course, if you're volunteerin'..." His tone was almost wistful and she shot him a hard look, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
Fuck! Can't believe I spoiled the moment like that.
"I'm sorry, pet," he said hastily, walking toward her and willing her to believe him. "My mouth isn't always connected to my brain. I never should have-"
"It's okay, Spike," she said, giggling at his clearly visible relief. "I don't expect smart things to come out of your mouth."
"Oh," he breathed. "That's good – thank you, lo—" Her words finally penetrated and he growled in mid-sentence. "Hey! Take that back, you disrespectful bint!"
Continuing to giggle at his indignation, she waved her hand airily and walked away. He fought to keep the angry expression on his face, while his heart soared to hear her teasing and laughing for the first time since she'd crawled from the earth. Giving up the fight and allowing what he was feeling to bring out a smile, he threw himself back onto the couch and beamed at her without shame.
"What?" Her giggles broke off at the goofy grin on his face; she faced him, hands on hips, trying to glare through her giggles.
"Nothin', love," he said softly. "It's jus'... it's good to hear you laugh again – even if it is at my expense."
"It's good to be laughing," she admitted. "Who would have thought that giving you a hard time would put me in a good mood?"
"Uh..." He struggled to bite his tongue before he could remind her that she'd been the bane of his existence for years. When she just raised her eyebrows at him, he gave it up, shaking his head and laughing.
"If you'd asked me, I could have told you that makin' me miserable has always been one of your favorite things to do. You remember taunting me while I was chained up at your watcher's? Flauntin' all that warm blood and creamy skin in my face and daring me to try to..." His voice trailed off as he remembered how the sight of her blood pumping through her veins had made him salivate and made other body parts sit up painfully.
"Ah, good times," Buffy sighed, trying to ignore the suddenly lustful expression on Spike's face and her own unexpected reaction to the memory.
"You see, Slayer," he tried to recover, knowing that she had caught his reaction to the trip down memory lane. "I've always known how to make you happy."
"Well, you've always been able to make me laugh, anyway," she agreed, giggling again when he growled. "Maybe I should put the chains on you and keep you as my own personal court jester..."
She flushed bright red when his eyes glazed over at the suggestion and he couldn't prevent himself from licking his lips. Looking for a change of subject, she peered into the darkness, asking, "So, is it the same down there? What does it look like now? Dawn said you made it almost... homey."
"Dawn told you she's been in my bedroom?" His voice rose to a squeak as he envisioned that conversation. "And I'm still standin'?"
She gave him a wry smile. "Yeah, my first reaction was pretty much what you'd expect... but she talked me down before there could be stake-age."
Buffy tried to control the expressions on her face as she remembered that tearful and loud conversation in which Dawn had explained how Spike was the only one who could calm her when she had nightmares about the tower and about Buffy's death. To the point that whenever Tara or Willow couldn't be with her for some reason, they sent her to Spike, knowing that he would not only keep her safe, but soothe her terror and grief. Dawn's constant presence was greatly responsible for the current improved look of the lower floor. He'd done his best to make it seem less like an underground lair and more like an actual room, even finding a reasonably intact and clean single bed so that she could have her own little corner sleeping nook.
"Can... may I see it?" she asked suddenly, not meeting his eyes.
"Of... of course, pet. Jus' let me get some lights..." To say that he was surprised would have been an understatement. He would have sworn on his non-existent soul that she would never want to set foot in that room, ever again.
"I mean..." She stumbled over her words, the awed expression on his face making her uncomfortable. "You know what my bedroom looks like, so it seems only fair that..."
Okay, Buffy. You are totally digging this hole way deeper. Just shut up now.
Giving her time to collect herself, Spike quickly dropped to the lower level and began lighting candles. He yanked the linens up in a quick attempt to make the big four-poster bed, and kicked his dirty clothes under it. When he'd done all he could to make the room look less like the untidy home of a lonely vampire, he called up to the waiting slayer.
"You can come down now, pet. Watch your step on the ladder."
She started down the ladder, pausing when she got close to the bottom and taking in the very different-looking room. Almost absently, she nodded at his words, not looking at him but continuing to run her eyes over the furnishings.
He stepped closer and offered her his hand to steady her as she came the rest of the way down the narrow steps. She paused at the bottom, her hand still resting lightly on his as she responded with a smile.
Removing her hand from where it rested on the now-unnecessary support of his arm, she began to wander around the room, mentally comparing it to the dirt-walled cave that it had been before. Now, the walls were covered with cloth hangings that concealed the packed earth and rocks behind them. The rocky floor was covered with soft oriental rugs and the large bed, which she tried very hard to avoid looking at, was covered in plush linens of black and red.
"Wow," she murmured, turning around and trying to take it all in. "It's really different." She looked at him suddenly, her lips quirking slightly. "So, where did you hide the chains when Dawn was here?"
"Jus' put 'em away, Slayer," he said gruffly. "I know where they are if I need them."
Buffy's eyes went involuntarily to the posts to which he had chained her, as well as the one to which he had tied Drusilla. Then they drifted past that area to the recess in the wall that had contained his shrine to her. In its place now was an antique dresser, complete with mirror. On the dresser rested a framed photo of Buffy, Dawn and Joyce – one that she recognized from home.
Seeing where her eyes had gone and speaking quickly, he said, "I didn't steal it. Dawn had a copy made for me—I... don't take it, Slayer. Please?"
Without answering him, she walked over and picked it up, staring with blank eyes at the photo of the three Summers women all laughing in the sunshine. Giving herself a little shake, she set it down carefully and looked at the other photos stuck to the mirror. A photo machine series of Spike and Dawn – in one of which he was in game face while her sister laughed at him. A couple of small pictures of her that she recognized as also having come from Dawn's collection, as well as one of her with Willow and Xander that she could remember being taken somewhere when they were in high school. Tucked high into one corner was a color photo of the whole Scooby gang taken outside the Magic Box. Just visible in the shadow of the door was a shock of white-blond hair and the glow of a cigarette. There was just enough definition for her to see that he was staring at her rather than at the camera and it served as a poignant reminder that his feelings hadn't changed, only the ways in which he chose to express them.
That sudden reminder of the way those feelings had changed his life began to make her uncomfortable, and she turned away from the small collection of photographs. Somehow, this more acceptable method of keeping her in his thoughts affected her more than the shrine he had maintained the year before, and she tried to smother a small pang of sympathy for the vampire.
She turned around to see him staring at her intently, his wary expression saying all there was to say about what he thought her reaction might be. She bit her lip and stepped closer to him, putting one hand lightly against his cheek.
"Spike," she began softly, sighing when he unconsciously leaned into her hand and closed his eyes. "Spike, I... I can't be what you want. I can't give you what you want from me... I'm not sure right now that I can... can love anybody. I don't need a boyfriend. And I don't want one."
She felt him stiffen and hurried on before he could turn away, sliding her hand down to his chin and forcing him to look at her. "I want a friend... someone to be there for me, someone I can count on. The way I've come to count on you. Can you... I know what I'm asking isn't fair, and if you want to say 'no', that's... that's okay...but I—"
"You've got friends, Slayer."
"I don't like them very much right now," she said with a trace of a pout.
"You don't like me either," he reminded her, with a skeptical eyebrow.
She smiled back at him, then her expression softened. "I trust you. I... I need you. To talk to," she added hastily. "And to help me fight and to keep me from getting drunk and making a fool of myself... and... and to teach me to drive!" she finished brightly in an attempt to lighten the mood. "You promised me you would."
"I guess I did, didn't I?" he admitted ruefully. "Well, I never break a promise to a lady, so I guess... I guess you've got yourself a friend, Slayer."
She smiled happily, allowing her hand to drop to her side, but not moving away from the also-smiling vampire. In spite of her speech, she found herself noticing how full his lower lip was, how his lashes brushed his cheeks when he lowered his eyes, and how his face with its chiseled cheek bones and smooth, pale skin could almost be called beautiful. Something of what she was thinking must have shown on her face, because suddenly Spike was frowning and moving away, an expression of pain on his face.
Way to blow hot and cold, Buffy, she chastised herself. That's all he needs – to think that you could lust after him, while you're telling him he has to think of you as a friend.
"Can we start now?" He threw his head up at her comment and stared at her.
"Can we start what? Being friends? Already there, love."
"No." She blushed and shook her head. "I meant could you start teaching me to drive? Tonight?"
"Not in my car," he responded with a suspicious narrowing of his eyes.
"Okay, fine! We'll use my mom's car. I think it works. Xander has been keeping it running for me."
"Sure thing, pet. Jus' let me get my things, alright?"
He bent over and picked up his socks and boots, sitting on the bed to put them on and drawing her eyes to it again.
"That... that bed looks really comfortable..." Her voice trailed off when he raised his head and gave her a hard look. Too late she realized how a remark like that would sound to someone who never left an innuendo to suffer alone.
To her surprise he just sighed and shook his head. "You're not going to make this easy for me, are you, Buffy?"
"I'm sorry," she blurted. "I was just trying to make conversation while I waited for you, and the bed was there and you were sitting on it, and... I'm just going to wait upstairs. 'K?"
She almost ran to the ladder, bolting up with all the agility and speed lent by her embarrasmen. She went directly to the door and opened it, standing impatiently in the safety of the cool evening air and trying not to think about Spike's bed or his willingness to do whatever she asked of him. When he appeared beside her, boots and ubiquitous leather duster on, she immediately began walking towards Revello Drive without waiting to see if he was following.
Chapter Two
With a few long strides, he was beside her, and they moved quietly and swiftly through the night – unafraid to face their new peril. Said lack of fear lasted only as long as it took for Buffy to back out of her driveway, at which time Spike ordered her into the passenger seat until they were "somewhere very open and flat".
"We're going to practice driving in the desert?" she pouted.
"If we have to," he muttered, expertly piloting the big SUV in the direction of the remains of Sunnydale High School. He drove around the parking lot until he was satisfied that there was nothing there that Buffy could hit and that the space was big enough. Then he stopped the car and put it in park.
"Alright, Slayer, now here's what you need to know – that's the gas pedal, it makes you go faster. That's the brake – it makes the car stop. This lever is what you use to change gears – D means drive, R means reverse and N is neutral. Got it?"
"I already know all this stuff," she grumbled as she slid over behind the wheel. "I did take the Drivers Ed course, you know." She waited for him to walk around the vehicle and climb into the passenger seat. "And failed it miserably," he replied, fastening his seat belt. Buffy glared at him, then pulled the car into drive and stepped on the gas. The resultant leap forward brought a muffled sound from him and she stepped on the brakes, bringing the car to a shuddering halt.
"Did you just scream?"
"Of course not! I'm a bloody master vampire – I don't scream."
"I think you screamed," she said, her lower lip coming out into another pout. "You think I'm such a bad driver that you're afraid."
Taking a deep breath, he blew it out and then unfastened the seat belt so that he could move closer to her.
"I'm not afraid for myself, love," he said gently. "I'm just a bit worried that you aren't takin' this as seriously as you should. Slayer healing's all well and good, but a bad accident could kill you just as dead as any other breakable human."
"Oh."
There was silence for a minute until Spike realized that the car, now that Buffy's foot was no longer on the brake, was slowly rolling toward the flimsy barriers designed to keep people away from the wrecked school. Moving quickly, he grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it towards himself, turning the big car in a large arc back into the open area of the parking lot. With a guilty start, Buffy slammed her foot back onto the brake, throwing Spike into the dashboard. From his position on the floor, the snarling vampire moved the gearshift into park and then pulled himself back up onto the seat.
"Oops?" Buffy's apologetic smile did nothing to quell the bloodcurdling snarls and she cringed slightly from his amber-flecked glare. She could see the bruise forming on the side of his face where it had struck the radio, and she winced sympathetically. Tentatively reaching toward him, she barely brushed his cheek with her fingers. "I hurt you."
"Not the first time, Slayer. Prob'ly won't be the last."
"Well, yeah," she said indignantly. "But this time it wasn't on purpose. There's just no sense apologizing to you, is there?"
"Didn't exactly hear an apology there," he grumbled, even as he wished she would touch his face again. "You might want to work on that skill a mite."
Instead of snarking back at him, she dropped her head against the back of her seat and sighed, shutting her eyes tightly.
"I'm just no good at this," she said dully. "Buffy and mechanical things are not mixy. We might as well give up and go home. I'm too stupid to learn."
"Hey," he countered. "Is this the same woman who took out the Judge with a bazooka? The same girl who foiled my best evil schemes? You're not stupid, Slayer, and we're going to make this happen. Now put the seat back and move forward," he growled, waiting for her to follow his instructions before sliding into the seat behind her.
When he was firmly in place with a nervous Buffy sitting on his lap and clutching the steering wheel with white knuckles, he said, "Alright, here's how this is goin' to work. We'll break it down into one skill at a time. When you can steer without losing track of where you're goin', we'll add the gear shift. When you've got those two working together, we'll add the pedals; and when I think you've got it all, I'll move your delectable little arse back onto the driver's seat and we'll go from there. Alright?"
She nodded dumbly, pretending she hadn't heard him refer to the body part currently perched on his upper thighs as her 'delectable little arse'.
"Here we go, Slayer. Nice and slow – all you have to do is to steer wherever you want to go."
He slid the car into drive and applied just enough pressure to begin moving it forward slowly. Biting her lower lip, Buffy concentrated on making large figure eights, then smaller maneuvers until she eventually worked her way up to driving around the perimeter of the parking lot – perilously close to the gaping hole in the ground and its flimsy barricades. In spite of keeping his foot ready to hit the brake if needed, Spike kept up an encouraging litany of praise as she mastered each step in steering the large vehicle around. When she had circled the big parking lot several times, and then, at his instructions, criss-crossed it several more, he stopped the vehicle and put it into "park". Buffy looked at him with apprehension, asking, "Was I doing something wrong?"
"No, pet. You did fine. I just want to make it a bit more interestin'. " He opened the door and gently slid her forward so that he could slide out from under her. Smothering a groan at the missing warmth he'd grown accustomed to feeling on his legs, he quickly stepped out of the car and began setting up an obstacle course.
When he had positioned trash barrels, yellow sawhorses and whatever other large objects he could find around the lot, he got back into the driver's seat and pulled Buffy back on to his lap. He almost sighed aloud when she settled her firm bottom on him again.
"Here we go, pet. You just steer where and when I tell you to, yeah?"
"Okay," she said with just a trace of nervousness.
With only one minor mishap with a trash barrel – which Spike assured her was his fault for not telling her to turn in time – he declared her ready to run the makeshift course by herself. She nodded firmly and he started the car forward, biting his tongue as she maneuvered around the objects several times. Without warning her that he was going to do it, he gradually increased the car's speed until Buffy was actually having to look ahead to what was coming next in order to be ready to make her turns. When he finally slowed the car to a stop, he was grinning and she was almost bouncing on his lap.
"I did it! I did it all by myself."
"That you did, Slayer."
"Don't think I didn't notice that you made us go faster, Mr. Sneakypants."
"Mr Sneakypants?"
"Don't change the subject," she grumbled. "I might've wrecked."
"No you wouldn't have. You were doing great – and I was careful. I didn't give you anything you couldn't handle." Ignoring her "humph!" he said carefully, "Are you ready for the next part?"
"Which is?"
"Backin' up."
"Like out of the driveway?"
"Well, I'm goin' more for learning to do it in a straight line and at a reasonable speed, but, yeah, that's the idea."
"Do you think I'm ready for that?" Buffy bit her lip and scrunched her face up dubiously.
"Absolutely, Slayer. Piece of cake. Now here's what I want you to do..."
Putting his foot on the brake, he moved the gearshift into reverse and coached, "Okay, before we start movin', check your mirrors. Make sure that you can see on both sides and behind you, then, nice and slow, we're going to start movin' backwards. All you have to do is remember that you're going to want to steer in the direction you want the car to go. Alright? Ready?"
"Okay..." She dutifully looked into both mirrors, spotting the cones stretching back on either side. As the large vehicle began to move slowly backwards, she jiggled the steering wheel anxiously, trying to keep it going straight. When it began to swerve slightly to the left, she completely forgot about Spike's directions and yanked the wheel to the left, sending the car over the cone and into the wooden barrier behind it. Her "ohhhh" of disappointment accompanied the car's halt and she automatically turned around to try to see what she'd run over.
Which put her face, mouth still rounded into an "O", right in front of Spike's. "I... I messed up," she whispered, staring at his mouth and trying not to remember how soft his lips were. Her tongue came out to lick at her own lips; with her eyes riveted on his mouth, she didn't notice the expression of sheer anguish in his eyes.
His "Bloody hell, Buffy" was barely whispered as his own eyes dropped to the mouth so tantalizingly close to his. "This is really not fair, Slayer," he groaned, unable to summon the willpower to push her away.
"I know," she whispered back. "I'm sorry, I just..." She stopped talking long enough to brush his lips with her own. "I don't want to – I really don't – I just can't help—"
The brief touch of her warm mouth on his destroyed Spike's last vestige of self-control and he devoured it like a man starving. Carefully keeping his hands away from her body, he moved nothing but his mouth as he poured himself into the kiss that he was sure was going to get him punched any second. When instead of recoiling, she began to kiss him back, his tongue slid out to trace a path around her lips and then slipped in to caress hers as it tentatively reached out to meet him.
The only sounds coming from the still vehicle were Buffy's gasping breaths and Spike's soft growls as they remained in their awkward position – Buffy unwilling to admit how much she wanted to be kissing him and knowing that to turn herself all the way around to face him would make it impossible to deny; and Spike afraid to touch her for fear he would lose all self control completely.
With a final whimper, Buffy pulled her mouth away and slumped back against his chest, the hair on the back of her head just tickling his nose. She remained like that for long minutes, struggling to control her erratic breathing and wondering how she was going to get out of the situation she had just created.
Spike spoke first.
"What the hell was that, Slayer?"
"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I seem to be saying that a lot tonight, don't I? But I am... sorry that is. I didn't mean to…."
"Let's be clear here, pet. Exactly what are you sorry about? Are you sorry you kissed me, because you didn't mean it? Or sorry that you wanted to kiss me and couldn't resist it? Or sorry that you gave your 'I just want to be friends' speech before you figured out that you wanted to kiss me? Or just sorry that you backed over one of my carefully-placed obstacles? What are you sorry about, this time?"
His words came from between teeth that were tightly clenched as he fought equally strong urges to pull her closer or to push her out the door. He felt her stiffen at his tone, and he dropped his head back against the head restraint, shut his eyes and sighed. Buffy remained on his lap, sitting up primly and clutching the steering wheel.
"I'm sorry, pet," he said finally, when she remained silent, only the angry flare of her nostrils indicating her state of mind. "But I don't know what you want from me. I'm not made of stone, love. I'm doin' my best to keep my promise, but..."
"I think I'm ready to try it by myself," she whispered, carefully avoiding answering any of his questions or turning around to meet his eyes.
"Right then, off you go." His tone was flat as he opened the door and allowed her to get off his lap. As soon as she was on the ground, he slid out and held the door while she climbed back into the large vehicle. Without a word, he closed the door gently and walked around to the passenger side – pausing to right the wooden sawhorse on his way. He got into the passenger seat and leaned over to see if her feet were reaching the pedals.
"Pull your seat up a bit, Slayer," he said quietly, waiting while she followed his instructions. "Alright," he said in the same quiet tone, "now put your foot on the brake, shift into drive and then move your foot to the gas and very slowly move the car forward."
Biting her lip, as much from dismay at his disinterested tone as in concentration, she did as he instructed and managed to guide the car back onto the course he had set up.
"Alright, that was good," he said. "Now drive to the end and try to turn around so that we're facing back in."
With only a slight hesitation when confronted with the open space between the car and the burned out school, she was able to do as he instructed and get the car back at the beginning of the course. In the same dispassionate tone, he said, "That's good, pet. Now go through it jus' like you did before, only this time, you're in charge of how fast we go. If you feel like it's too fast, just ease up on the gas or touch the brake pedal."
Buffy followed instructions as well as she could, gaining confidence with each trip across the parking lot, until she was finally weaving her way through and around the obstacles at a reasonable speed and with a growing sense of accomplishment. When he finally told her to stop, saying, "That's enough for tonight, Slayer. Good job." she was so excited that she temporarily forgot that he was mad at her, and she turned to him with a dazzling smile.
"I did it! I can drive now!"
"So it would seem," he responded in the same even voice he'd been using since the kiss ended. "Think you're up for tryin' to drive it home?"
"On the street?" Her wide eyes and frightened jump in heart rate brought a reluctant smile to his lips.
"The street would be my first choice," he said dryly. "less you're planning to get there by drivin' over lawns."
"Not funny, Spike," she grumbled. "There are cars on the streets – with people in them!"
"It's the middle of the night, Slayer. I'll be surprised if we see more than two or three other cars – and they'll probably be driven by vamps or demons, so if you run them down, you can just view it as a new way of slaying."
"Do you really think I'm ready?"
"Guess we'll find out, won't we?" he responded, leaning back in his seat with more confidence than he actually felt. "Jus' don't get going so fast that you can't stop if you need to. There isn't going to be any traffic to worry about tonight. And put your seat belt on."
Nodding dubiously, Buffy guided the big car to the exit from the parking lot, stopping and carefully looking both ways before pulling out into the street and turning toward Revello Drive. They had gone several blocks in relative safety before Spike said, abruptly, "Turn right at the next corner."
"Why?"
"Just do it."
Buffy negotiated the turn, successfully passing a line of parked cars without brushing too close or swerving into the other lane. He watched closely as her knuckles whitened when head lights approached, but she maintained her speed and remained on her path, resisting the urge to move too close to the parked cars.
"Well done, Slayer," he praised quietly when she exhaled a visible sigh of relief once the car was past them.
Following Spike's quiet directions, Buffy made left turns, stopped at red lights, and pulled into a parking place in an almost empty grocery store parking lot before the vampire nodded and told her to, "see if you can get yourself home from here."
Within a very short period of time, she was making the tight turn into her driveway, wincing when she saw what she'd done to the mailbox on her way out earlier in the evening. She pulled smoothly into the parking area, stopped the car and set the brake before turning it off with a triumphant "Hah!"
"Good job, Slayer. You did it."
She studied his impassive face for a minute, then said softly, "We did it, Spike. You did it."
He shook his head, as much to hide the jolt of pleasure her acknowledgement gave him as to negate what she was saying. "You did it, Buffy. All you needed was some time to gain your confidence and some practice."
"So, when do you think I'll be ready to get my license?" she asked brightly. When he just gaped at her, clearly incapable of even answering, her lip began to creep out and her eyes narrowed. " You do think I'm going to be able to get my license, don't you?"
Recovering himself quickly, he soothed, "Yes, Slayer. Of course you will. But I don't think a bit more practice would be out of order before you go in to take the test, yeah?"
"I suppose you're right," she said, losing some of her enthusiasm as she remembered that there had only been one other moving vehicle on the road with her that evening and that it had frightened her more than the average demon. "So, same time tomorrow, then?"
He nodded silently, opening his door and stepping out onto the paved driveway.
"Alright, Slayer," he agreed. "I'll be by after you patrol."
He turned to leave when her voice called him back.
"Spike?" she said softly.
He stopped, but didn't look at her.
"I... I'm sor—"
"Don't," he growled. "Just don't."
For the second time in two days, she realized how often and how blatantly she took advantage of the vampire's feelings for her. As she turned to go into her house, her shoulders slumped in resignation, and she wondered briefly if she would know when she had finally pushed him over his limit; or if he would just disappear from her life one night – leaving her to wonder if she'd driven him away or if he'd dusted.
Chapter Three
When she returned from a quieter-than-normal patrol, Buffy ran upstairs and took her hair out of the utilitarian ponytail in which she'd worn it while searching for something to slay. She brushed it out and applied blush to her cheeks; then reached for her flavored lipgloss. She froze with her hand almost to her mouth as she realized what she was doing.
Oh my god! I'm getting made up to go out with Spike! Not that we're going out – out, but I'm going to see him and here I am primping like it was date. What is wrong with me?
She stared at her reflection in the mirror, still holding the tube of gloss and trying to decide what to do with it. With a shrug, she brought her hand up and ran the slick applicator around her mouth, finishing with a flourish.
This has nothing to do with wanting Spike to kiss me again. I'm just trying to get back into the swing of being pretty Buffy. It's time I started taking care of myself and... and... She lost her ability to deny what she was doing and sighed with surprisingly calm acceptance. I do want him to kiss me. He's amazing and I... oh, God, I want to kiss him again. But I can't. I won't.
Grabbing a red sweater to put over the black tee shirt she'd worn for slaying, she quickly ran down the stairs, waved at a puzzled Willow and Dawn, and left the house before they could ask her where she was going. Keys in hand, Spike was waiting beside the car, leaning against it in that loose-limbed way he had that went so well with his bad boy good looks. She held out her hand, then hesitated.
"Are you going to drive us back to the school?" She eyed the keys that he was tossing up and down and wondered how he had gotten them. "And, what are you doing with my car keys?"
"The ones you left sitting in the ignition, you mean?"
"I did no—I did?"
"That's where I found 'em when I got here." He gave her a look she associated more with Giles than with Spike. "Are you daft, Slayer? You, of all people, should know better than to leave any kind of vehicle unlocked in this town."
"I forgot," she said meekly. "It's not like I've ever had to worry about where the keys were before. Nobody ever asked me to drive them anywhere."
"We're gonna change that, Slayer," he said, tossing her the keys and walking around to the other side.
She caught the keys deftly and opened the door to climb into the driver's seat.
"Aren't you going to check the back before you get in? What if there was a vamp waitin' back there?"
She just looked at him and made a face.
"The only vamp in this car is you. I don't have to look in the back to know that."
"That so?"
"Yes, that's so. Don't try to act like it isn't. If there was another vampire here, I'd feel him and so would you. And, anyway, you would have dusted him before I even got outside."
"You're bloody sure of yourself, you are," he muttered rebelliously. "Might just let you find out the hard way, you know."
"No, you wouldn't," she said cheerfully, skillfully maneuvering the big vehicle out of the driveway and into the deserted street. "I did that good, didn't I?"
"Wasn't bad," he admitted grudgingly. "Except for not lookin' before you pulled out in the bloody street!"
"Oops?"
"You can't do 'oops' in a car, Buffy. You'll get yourself killed. Why can't you get that through your head?"
"If you're going to yell at me, you're going to make me nervous and I'll mess up!"
"If you're not going to look before you pull out into a street, you're going to make me nervous!"
"It's not like a car wreck is going to kill you," she muttered, even as she carefully stopped at the intersection and looked both ways before turning in the direction of the old high school.
"Head for Willy's" Spike instructed before she could build up much speed.
"Why? Do we need information?"
"No, one of us needs something to drink – and I don't feel like payin' Bronze prices."
"How are you going to teach me to drive if you're drunk?"
Spike ground his teeth together and stretched his neck until it gave an audible 'pop'. "I'm not plannin' to get drunk. I just want a drink – now, do as you're told."
Her lower lip sticking out further than should be humanly possible, Buffy said, "You just said you'd teach me to drive so that you could boss me around and yell at me, didn't you?"
"Yes, Buffy. I just said I'd teach you to drive because I wanted to yell at you. Unlike the rest of the time when I never yell, even when you're being a giant pain in my arse!"
"You're yelling again," she pointed out primly as she pulled into the parking lot of Willy's bar without actually hitting anything but two large, green demons. "Ha! Look at that!" she exclaimed triumphantly.
"Wonderful, pet. You only hit two people."
"They were demons! Big demons! I didn't hurt them – and even if I did…"
"Yeah, they were demons. Got it."
He got out and slammed the door, walking towards the bar as quickly as he could. Which wasn't quickly enough, as the two demons, which were still nursing bruises and sore toes, grabbed him and began to toss him back and forth to the accompaniment of snarls and punches.
"Oh, for...!"
Buffy jumped out of the car and ran towards the now full-fledged fight. "Leave him alone, you bullies! He wasn't driving, I was!"
They turned narrow yellow eyes on the small human woman yelling at them, taking in the large sword in her hand and the angry look on her face. With disgusted snarls, they threw Spike at her feet and continued into the bar. Dropping the sword, Buffy knelt down and reached a tentative hand towards the groaning vampire.
"Are you okay?"
"Do I look okay to you?"
"Um... no. Actually, you look kinda... beat up."
"Get back in the car, Slayer."
"You called me Slayer – does that mean you're mad at me?"
He sighed deeply, wondering which of his evil deeds he was paying for by falling in love with the Slayer.
"I'm not mad at you, Buffy," he managed to get out between gritted teeth. "But I can't very well go in there for my drink now, can I?"
"Oh," she said in a small voice. "I guess not. Where do you want to go, then?"
He waved his hand around randomly. "Doesn't much matter. Go wherever you want, jus' try to stay away from places that might have a lot of traffic." He leaned back against his seat and closed his eyes, not moving even when he felt the car begin to move again.
Buffy pulled out onto the street, turning right for no other reason than that it was much easier than making a left turn into traffic. At the next corner, she turned right again, and then again, until they were soon back in front of Willy's.
"What are you doing?" Spike's eyes were still closed, but his nostrils and his sense of direction told him where they were.
"I'm practicing," she said quietly. "I'm just practicing the easy stuff because you have your eyes closed and can't tell me what to do next."
With a sigh, he straightened up and opened his eyes – or the one that wasn't swollen shut, anyway.
"Fine. I'm watching. Do something else besides circling the bloody block, will you?"
"Maybe we should just go home, if you're going to be all bad moody," she muttered. "I won't be able to drive if you make me nervous."
He stared at her incredulously. "For three years, I tried to kill you every time I had a chance, without so much as a shiver from you; now you tell me all I had to do to make you nervous was put you behind the wheel of a car and yell at you?"
"You sound like you're mad at me," she pouted.
"I am mad at you! You're driving me bloody insane."
"I haven't done anything!" Buffy's voice was quickly taking on the same frustrated and angry tone as the vampire's. "I'm just trying to learn to drive. You promised you could teach me and all you're doing is sitting there all pissed off because you didn't get a drink."
Spike was uncharacteristically quiet for several minutes, turning his head to look out the window at the slowly passing streets of Sunnydale. When he realized that Buffy was actually heading for Revello Drive, he sighed.
"I'm sorry, pet. Don't go home yet. You need to get more practice driving in traffic and maybe work on some parking. You were right; I promised to teach you to drive and all I've done is be a self-centered git."
Buffy turned at the next intersection and started slowly back towards the only part of town likely to have traffic this late at night. She was silent until she realized Spike wasn't going to say anything else, and then said, "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you when you're trying to help me."
"Who are you, and what have you done with the Slayer?" he snarked, earning a glare that was quickly followed by a small grin.
"Very funny," she growled. "I was nice to you last year when you started helping me. You said so. You said I treated you like a man."
"I did, love. And you were – nice to me. Guess I just don't know how to handle it when you forget and treat me like a real person. Like someone you could..."
He stopped, reluctant to say that her flirty behavior was confusing him; said confusion contributing mightily to his shorter-than-normal temper.
Dozy bint has her hair down, got those lips all glossy like she wants them to be noticed... How the bloody hell is a vamp supposed to know what to think or do?
With a loud sigh, he pushed any thoughts of Buffy's unusual behavior to the back of his mind and tried to concentrate on teaching her to drive safely in traffic. He had her practice using turn signals, pulling in and out of alleys and parking lots – with the occasional pause for her to jump out and slay something lurking in one of the alleys – and driving on streets that had a moderate amount of traffic for a late night in Sunnydale. Although her knuckles occasional whitened, and he wasn't sure that he didn't once see the steering wheel bend just a little, she managed to do everything he asked without hitting anything.
Finally, with a pleased smile, he told her she had earned a reward and he asked her to drive to a strip mall near the Sunnydale University campus. She successfully maneuvered the big car into the parking lot and drove headfirst into a parking spot some distance from the stores.
"What are we doing here?"
"Told you, you deserve a reward for workin' so hard tonight. I'll be right back."
He stepped from the car and walked towards the all-night deli that was operated by a half-demon friend of his. Buffy watched his cocky strut across the parking lot, marveling at how someone who knew he would be completely helpless against any of the humans watching him could appear so disdainful and unafraid.
It seems to be working for him. That cocky,' don't mess with me' attitude has all those fraternity boys thinking he's too dangerous to bother. You can tell they want to – they want to—oops. Looks like they worked up their courage while he was in the deli; that one must have said something...
She watched anxiously as Spike paused and turned to stare at the boy who had spoken to him. The boy swaggered away from his friends, continuing to talk to Spike as he approached. The vampire remained perfectly still, his gaze fixed on the human who was clearly hoping for a fight. He made a response that Buffy couldn't hear, followed by an unmistakably rude British gesture; then continued to walk towards Buffy. He handed her the ice cream cone he'd got for her, and shook his head when she started to get out of the car.
"I've got it, pet," he growled. Buffy's eyes widened as she saw the belligerent boy rushing towards them.
"Spike! Behind you, he's…"
"I hear him comin'." He winked at her and shifted into game face, whirling just in time to raise his arm and block the punch aimed at his head. The blood-curdling snarl that accompanied his change in demeanor sent the boy stumbling backwards so fast that he lost his balance and fell to the ground, scrambling to get away from the monster now stalking him.
The boy's friends had started towards him when he fell, but one look at what was threatening him and they waited to see what would happen rather than rushing the frightening creature standing over their companion. Spike stood over the still scrabbling man long enough to be sure he wasn't going to forget how his attempt to bully someone smaller had backfired, then turned away, his contempt plain to see. He shifted back into his human face and calmly opened the door on the passenger side, sliding in with a satisfied smile.
Buffy silently handed him her cone while she pulled forward and drove carefully, but with increasing confidence, out of the parking lot and onto the street. She drove to the other side of the campus, then parked again in a deserted faculty lot and held out her hand for her ice cream.
She watched as Spike ran his tongue around the melting ice cream, catching the drips and bringing them into his mouth with exaggerated motions of his lips and tongue. In spite of herself, she couldn't take her eyes off his mouth as he swallowed and then licked his lips. She absently took the offered cone, still staring at his moistened lips. Only when he pointed at the once-again dripping ice cream, did she tear her eyes away and begin her own frantic licking.
When she had rescued her clothes from any danger of melting ice cream stains, she stopped licking again to study him, now lounging against the door with his hand out the window.
"Why did you do that, back there?" she asked with genuine curiosity. "You couldn't know for sure that those guys weren't going to jump you. They might have been ex-Initiative or something."
"Don't like bullies," he responded quietly.
When he didn't elaborate, Buffy went back to eating her ice cream, mulling over the enigma that was William the Bloody. She had almost eaten the whole cone when she impulsively held it out and asked Spike if he wanted to finish it. He smiled and took it from her, their fingers touching briefly as he did so.
"Thank you, love. Can't think of anything I'd like more than to be putting my tongue where yours just was." He gave her a modified version of his trademark leer and she gave him the expected, "Ewww, Spike." They smiled at each other, comfortable in their roles as macho pig and the disgusted object of his affections.
He finished the ice cream with much smacking of lips and flourishing of tongue, continuing to run his tongue around his lips and watching Buffy's eyes darken as she followed the path his tongue was taking. He moved towards her, his own eyes now focused on her lips, which she licked nervously. When his face was right in front of hers, only inches separating them, he raised his eyes to hers and murmured, "Yes or no, Buffy. What do you say? Don't want to overstep any bounds, but you're killin' me here."
"Y... yes," she whispered, closing her eyes and leaning closer. "I say 'yes'."
With a heartfelt groan, he closed the distance between them and fastened his lips on hers, exerting a gentle pressure until she sighed into his mouth and opened hers to his still cool and ice cream-flavored tongue.
The kiss went on for long minutes, neither of them willing to break it, and each afraid to move to another level. Buffy was grateful that the big vehicle had bucket seats in the front, making it difficult for them to be touching anywhere but their mouths and the hand that Spike was resting lightly on her shoulder.
Difficult, but not impossible, she realized when she found herself pulled across the opening and onto Spike's lap. Unlike the times she had sat on his lap while he worked the pedals of the car, this time she was draped across him, his right arm behind her back and his left wrapped around her waist, holding her against his chest.
The kisses went on, Buffy the aggressor as often as the vampire, and it wasn't long before Spike's hands were moving along her back and sides in long strokes. He ran his hand from her shoulder blade down her back, over her hip and down her thigh; then up again. Over and over, his hand traveled the same path. The motion was soothing and exciting at the same time, giving Buffy nothing to object to and yet becoming more sensual with every stroke.
She whimpered into Spike's mouth when his hand slid around to caress her rib cage. As he ran it back up her body, over her ribs again, he stopped just beneath her breast and hesitated there. His thumb was just touching the bottom of her breast and she felt it begin to rub lightly against her sweater. Emboldened by her lack of resistance, he cupped her breast in his hand, moving his still-stroking thumb to the nipple that hardened beneath his attentions.
Buffy's breathing was loud and ragged as she surrendered to the sensations he was creating. She barely noticed when his hand slipped under her shirt and his fingers began stroking her bare skin, knowing only that the sensations had increased in intensity to the point that she completely forgot that they were in a semi-public place.
Her hands were around his neck and her body turned awkwardly towards his, seeking more contact even as her brain was screaming that she had to make him stop. When he released her mouth to run his lips down her neck, murmuring things she didn't want to hear as he pushed her shirt up higher, she came back to herself enough to gasp, "We... you... stop... there are people..."
"Nobody close enough to see us, love," he crooned, kneading her breast with one hand while the other held her closer. "It's dark, they can't see us anyway."
Buffy could feel his erection pushing against her bottom. As much as she tried to ignore it, the way his hips were subtly tipping against her made it impossible. I've got to make him stop. Now, before we... before he thinks that I want... Now, while he isn't kissing me and turning my mind to mush...
As if he could read her mind, he fastened his mouth back on hers, letting his lips and tongue tell her everything that he wasn't permitted to say aloud. His vampire senses made him more than aware of the effect his kisses were having on her, but his own unbelieving awe at having her in his arms, kissing him willingly with passion and what he couldn't prevent his poet's heart from feeling was affection— Not love, maybe. Not yet. But surely she couldn't be reactin' to me like this if she didn't care... at least a little bit—prevented him from taking advantage of it. All he wanted to do was to continue to kiss her and have her warm body in his arms for as long as she was willing to stay there. Completely lost in the scent and feel of the woman he loved and never expected to have, he didn't hear the approaching footfalls.
When the car door was yanked open, he almost fell out, only his lightning reflexes and Buffy's own adrenaline-fueled response keeping them from tumbling out onto the asphalt.
"Don't worry, miss. We'll save you from this monster."
Rough hands dragged Spike from the car, flinging him to the ground. Buffy watched in horror as the formerly cowed group of boys leaned over the helpless vampire, make-shift stakes in their hands. Before they could make good on their obvious intention to overwhelm the vampire with numbers and dust him, Buffy was out the door and throwing them back from Spike's snarling form.
"I don't need saving, you morons!" She glared at them, fury shaking her body. Her fists were clenched behind her back in an attempt to keep herself from punching one of the would-be rescuers.
"You don't understand; he's a vampire. He was biting you."
"He was kissing me, you oaf. And I know he's a vampire. Do I look stupid to you?"
"Hey, maybe she's one too," a boy Buffy recognized as the one Spike had frightened so badly outside the ice cream shop said, peering at her suspiciously. "Did you see how easy she pushed Bobby away? That's not normal."
Spike had taken advantage of their distraction to kip to his feet and now stood glaring from safety – over Buffy's shoulder. His position behind the small woman wasn't lost on his attackers.
"Guess that guy was telling the truth. The one that said this vampire couldn't bite... No wonder she wasn't worried about him killing her. He has to hide behind her skirts."
Grinning unpleasantly, the original attacker began to stalk towards them, saying, "Hold her, will you guys? This won't take long."
Spike's low growls were born as much of frustration as anger or fear. He fell into a fighting stance, hoping that his willingness to fight the larger man might be taken as evidence that they'd been lied to. Buffy's face was a study in contradiction, her mission to avoid harming humans at odds with her desire to keep Spike safe. When two of the boys grabbed her arms and pulled her away from Spike, she gave up worrying and simply pulled her arms out of their grip. While they were still staring at their suddenly empty hands, she stepped in front of Spike and said calmly, "If you want to dust him, you have to go through me first."
With a nasty laugh, the boy backhanded her across the face, blinking a bit with surprise when she didn't fall down, but rather allowed a grin to spread across her face.
"I want to thank you for that," she said cheerfully as she punched him in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. "For a minute there I was feeling bad about having to hit you." She whirled to meet the other boys, now recovered from their surprise and expecting to overwhelm her with numbers. Although they were big and fairly strong, for humans, they had taken on a warrior who fought supernaturally fast and strong creatures every night. A much happier Spike perched on the hood of the car – the better to cheer her on.
"Good one, Slayer! Take that, you wanker! Watch your shoulder, pet, you're telegraphing your punches a bit. Oh, nice bit of work! Good job. Behind you, love – ah, that got it... Good girl."
Buffy quickly ran out of opponents, leaving all four boys lying on the ground, groaning and barely conscious. She dusted her hands with satisfaction and walked back to the car where Spike tried to pull her between his knees so that he could kiss her again. With a shake of her head, Buffy gently but firmly removed his hands from her shoulders and walked around to the driver's side door.
"Come on, Spike," she said as she opened the door. "It's late. I need to get home."