Warming Up To New Things
Part III
Set in an AU early season four where Spike and Drusilla briefly reunite in Sunnydale, when Spike suddenly- or not so suddenly- realizes that he's left a bit cold by his lady love, and he's starting to warm up to someone else. Could that someone feel the same?
"Willow might be there," Buffy realized as they walked. "She wasn't planning to be, but she could have had plans change."
Spike nodded. What do I say to that? What's that mean? "Coffee shop?"
Did Spike just ask me out for coffee? What do I say to that? What's that mean? Probably just that we need a spot where we're not getting pelted with rain, and maybe he didn't want Willow around to overhear us talk about what happened. Because I never told anyone exactly how I got caught, or got away. "Yeah, there's a little shop near the library that stays open late."
"I didn't bring my car. Shoulda brought my coat," he winced as rain ran down his collar and into his ears. He shook his head, sending his platinum locks askew, now drenched. The result was less than flattering. Buffy stifled a giggle. "You don't look so picture perfect, either," he quirked his lips into a crooked grin, pointing to her plastered-down hair.
"I don't know why I never bring an umbrella patrolling. It could double as a stake, right?" she suddenly mused.
"Practical, fends off the weather and the undead," and to his surprise, and hers, there was another mutual chuckle.
It was stifled quickly. Why am I laughing at him? With him? He is the undead, the evil undead. He kills humans, he kills slayers.
But he saved me.
"Turn here," Buffy pointed, smile suddenly gone.
The coffee shop was almost empty, lights were low and yellow, creating an atmosphere that was cozy and quiet, perfect for the diehard studiers who were still hitting the books after ten, nearly eleven. "You got the drinks, I'll get coffee. Oh. Are we having coffee?"
"They sell hot cocoa?"
"Two cocoas, coming up." Doesn't this sound cozy? And weird as hell?
She came back and put the cocoa in front of him with a tense smile. His hair was already drying. She picked up a starburst bruise around one eye that she hadn't seen in the darkness of the bar. "What are we doing?" she asked abruptly.
"Lookin' for mini marshmallows," Spike craned his neck toward the little bar with creamers and sugars and poofy syrups. "You'd think with seventeen different coffee flaovrings, they could leave out a few marshmallows, wouldn't you?"
"Too many college kids would come in here and eat the whole bowl," she was privately thinking the same thing about whipped cream. "They give you whipped cream, but it melts so fast. They should leave a can of it out, next to the milk and creamer."
"Probably some college kids'd nick that, too," he sipped and sighed. "Just the right amount of sugar, I'll give 'em that."
"Yeah, I don't come in here much, but when I- wait. Stop. Spike, what are we doing? Here, now, talking to each other?"
He considered. "Not being enemies, I guess."
"You saved my life the other night."
"You've saved mine before," he waved it away, but inside he was waiting. Yes, you noticed. An' you appreciate it. This isn't like the old days. This isn't her old way to treat poor, pathetic Spike. Somethin' changed for me, but changed for her, too.
"You did it without telling Drusilla. She wasn't happy about it, judging from your 'claw marks'," she gestured.
Lies, lies between him and Dru, had been for years. Not with the Slayer, not anymore. "No, she wasn't pleased at all. I'm always gonna love her. But I'm not in love with her anymore," he looked sick as he said the horrible words, breaking what he'd thought was unbreakable. "I always thought she was everything I could want, but there's one thing she isn't. At last not to me."
Buffy watched his head bow, dark eyebrows lower and pale lips curl in a pained grimace. Vampires always played rough. She didn't know what prompted her to say, "Gentle?" as she looked at the cascade of healing streaks down the back of his neck, visible from his profile.
He swallowed a smile. "No, we could be gentle, Luv. I could be loyal. She's havin' trouble with that."
Buffy grit her teeth, "Loyalty is in reeeal short supply these days. Humans and vamps." Angel. Angelus. Parker. No matter what the situation, they were only around me if it suited them.
"Amen."
His mug was out. Hers clinked to it. They exchanged surprised glances and awkwardly looked away. "You worked really hard trying to save her. Her life, her mind, her- her love." Buffy mulled the last word, rolling her tongue inside her mouth after it left. Yeah. He and Drusilla had something like love. More love and devotion than so many human couples. I don't know, I thought demons couldn't love, but what he had for her... This is too confusing.
"You did the same thing for Angel, Pet. I know that. Even as Angelus, he couldn't stop talking about you, about how you loved him." He didn't tell her it was said with such condescension, such mocking.
Buffy gave him a surprised look, a look of pretty pain that melted some part usually reserved for Drusilla in one of her fits of agony. "He did?"
"Yeah, he did."
She became brisk, tone getting angrier the longer she talked. "Well, it's over now. He left. Haven't heard from him all summer, not two words, not a postcard or a phone call."
"Bastard," Spike looked genuinely disgusted. "He never knew a good thing when he had it."
"Neither did she," Buffy replied firmly.
"Well, well. We're full of surprises tonight," Spike's eyebrows were raised. Had she just called him something good? He supposed, given the right motivation, he could be. Saving her had been an act of good, an act he chose, an act he wanted to complete, not knowing if it would ever have any tangible dividends. Although… Spike watched her smile at him, something almost shy and most definitely incredulous. Those smiles are pretty valuable. Seen precious few of them in the last year or so.
"Slayer, I was thinkin' about movin' in a different direction after -"
"Shit! Shit, shut up, shh!" Buffy made a flurry of frantic noises that all blurred together, eyes now openly panicked.
"Jerks from the bar followin' us? Demons? Vamps?" Spike slid toward her, knees bending, defensive crouch beginning as naturally as blinking.
"Worse. Parker," Buffy spat the word in a low hiss as if ridding her mouth of rotten meat.
"What's a parker?"
"That. Black curly hair, sweet smile, big eyes, charm and good conversation, oozing all over that," Buffy jerked her chin toward couple, preppy college boy and a curvaceous blonde who filled out an orange sweater and giggled helplessly as they took a booth.
"What'd he do?" Spike moved his chair, now beside her instead of across from her. He bent his head low, and she leaned into him, tickling him with her breath, sweetly scented like cocoa and cream, warm on parts of him that were always cool to the touch.
"I don't want to go into details. He is just the poster boy for lack of loyalty. His picture would be in the dictionary under 'one night stands, also see jerk.'"
Spike looked at the tightening of the jaw, the curling of the fingers into fists. "He hurt you?"
Lying would have been better, less embarrassing. She didn't feel like lying to him. "Yeah," she admitted softly. "A new one every week. Probably a couple a week, I was just tied up for a couple of days and missed out on the revolving door of duped females."
"Oh, c'mon, it was only a few hours, and -oh. You meant busy," Spike coughed uncomfortably.
She ignored the misunderstanding, the reminder of her capture that he'd been the one to end. "He acts like it never happened. Nothing's wrong. It's just normal to make someone think you really care for them and even love- well, not like that, but you really, really have something special. Suddenly you're doing things… Things you weren't going to do anymore. Just as suddenly, he's done with you and you don't even know what you did wrong."
Her voice got lower, sadder. Her head sank, shame creeping up, and she almost jumped out of her skin when his hand came to cup her cheek, tilt her head up.
"Spike. No," Buffy began to pull back, eyes wide.
"He's watching you. Now smile at me," Spike whispered, eyes intense, not matching the suddenly light, boyish grin.
He's not supposed to be handsome. Why is he suddenly handsome? She smiled shakily. "He's watching?"
"He's a wanker, Buffy. I can tell. Smell the lies on him. He likes to take. Cause a bit of pain. Smile like it was just a little lesson, a gift from the master. Angelus had that same smile," Spike cut his eyes to the couple and back.
She muttered bitterly, "I have a type. I can't even tell I have a type."
"No, you had someone you loved. Then someone who used you."
His hand was still there. It started to drift away, but she stayed close to him. "You're acting differently."
"I was 'bout to tell you that before human scum came in," he whispered.
"Tell me now?"
"I don't want to be enemies."
"You said that."
"You didn't say what you wanted. In my experience, ladies are supposed to have a say about what they want."
Angel didn't do that. Parker didn't do that. They ended things on their terms, never mine, never mutual. "I don't want to be enemies. But-"
"I'm not going to be saintly. I could be friendly, though."
"Friendly with- me?"
"Is that somethin' you'd consider?"
We have to stop looking at each other. Too intense. He's cold, why is there heat? I wanted to warm up, but not like this. Not feel… heated. For him. I don't. I do not. "Friends?"
"Just said that bit, Slayer," he laughed, his head bowing slightly, and to her surprise, gently brushing hers, forehead to forehead.
"I… would like that. I don't trust-" she almost said "you", but for some odd reason, her lips balked at that.
"Me?"
"No. Not that," she sat back, puzzled. "I don't know what to make of this, but I could like it. I could definitely like it. I'm almost afraid to like it."
He sat back as well, next to her. They watched Parker's hands find their way all over buxom blonde's shoulders and rest on her breast under the guise of stroking her hair. "I feel so stupid right now. I hope I didn't look that dumb when he was putting the moves on me."
"I'm pretty sure you didn't. You must've made him work for it."
"Not hard enough," the regret-tinged her voice, and it stung him.
"I don't think he's too happy with tits for brains over there, actually," Spike suddenly said.
"Spike! Don't call her that! I mean, she might not be too bright, but it isn't because of her cup size!" Buffy admonished.
"Shhh. Use your Slayer skills. Huntress, aren't you?"
Huntress? Had she ever been called that? If not, she sure liked it right now. Powerful. Clever. More than just a killer, a tracker of prey.
"He paws the girl, but he looks over here. He keeps cutting his eyes this way, but so far, you haven't met his glance. He's not gonna be happy until you do. Not happy unless he sees your sad little face, mourning the loss of him, what a great catch he was, all that ego-panderin' muck."
"Then I won't look. He's not going to have any more satisfaction off of me. I already gave him plenty," she curled her lips in something like a predatory smile.
Bloody hell, why? Why did she have to make me wonder?
She blushed. Why did I say that, like that?
"It's killin' him, seein' you here with a new man. He doesn't know I'm not - I'm not the new man," Spike's smooth, low voice faltered at the end.
"You sounded like a new man a minute ago. Acting differently?"
"Well, yeah, that. But not a new man for you. Not like he thinks. Although, I'm all right if you don't disillusion him just yet. Blondie's startin' to notice he's not really payin' her much mind. He can't stop lookin' this way."
She bit her lip. Let's give him something to look at, the thought crept into her brain. Let's make him so jealous, let's make him hurt the way he made me hurt.
But you can't. You don't use people like he does, I wouldn't play with Spike's head like that. And he doesn't care about you anyway, so it's not like he'd even feel any kind of true envy, he wouldn't care. He just wants to make sure you hurt.
Let's show him I don't. "Spike?"
"What, Slayer?"
"If I asked you to come back to my dorm, what would you think?" she asked cautiously
"Either you wanted to be friendly in a whole different way than I'd imagined, or you wanted Parker to think you and I were about to do things he can only dream of. In fact, maybe that's it, Luv. He doesn't like to stick around, but I bet he wishes he was still gettin' the … benefits of being with you."
"That's childish, right? To want him to see how done with him I am? A mature person wouldn't care."
"There's always a little room for harmless payback, and he's not going to get hurt, is he?" Spike smirked.
"Odds are very low. He doesn't care. I'm the one who cares. I'm the- the loyal one."
"He's a fool. Bloody fool," Spike's hand was on her forearm, his voice low and growling. "You don't disrespect people like that. Like you."
Spike had always respected her. Her abilities, her talents, her status as a Slayer. He'd insulted her and hurt her, but there was something about Spike that always screamed "worthy opponent."
"Are we going to hurt each other anymore?"
"Huh?" Spike's arm flew off of hers.
"Fight. If we're not enemies, if we're friends, you and I won't fight. Physically."
"Oh, well. I'd be willing to go ten rounds with you, Slayer, provided you put your stakes down first."
"And you pop out your fangs?"
"All right, I get it. I'd be willing to battle, not to the death. Not even to the severely injured. Maybe first blood?"
Something is wrong with me tonight. Offering to battle until "first blood" shouldn't sound really tempting. "We can't exactly do that in my dorm room."
"It's still raining," Spike looked out the shop's window. "An' don't tip your hand, Slayer, but the git is on the move. B'lieve he's about to 'borrow' our salt or grab napkins off our table, as if there weren't a dozen other vacant tables he could-"
"Do you want to leave now, or play along?" Buffy suddenly changed position, leaving her chair, striding over to him, still eye to eye.
"I love a good game," he blinked before she sat in his lap, straddling him. "As long as no one gets hurt."
"I'm not that heavy," she glared.
"Not that kinda hurt," Spike growled.
It felt so easy, felt so real, right down to the possessive growl, and the friction of legs over legs. Too real, too easy. "You're a good actor."
Who says I'm acting, he wanted to retort. He let his hand slide slowly up into her hair, and she tilted her head, swiveled it, slow and sensual. She must be able to feel what she's doing to me. I didn't even want it to happen, I just can't help it. Can't stop the reaction. "You better stop this. You might not want to hurt the boy, but you're 'bout to cause some severe discomfort for m-"
"Buffy? Hey, I thought that was you!" Parker's chipper voice broke into Spike's hissed conversation.
"She's pretty unforgettable," Spike answered the boy, but kept his eyes on Buffy, who still hadn't composed her features enough to look back over her shoulder. "Is this the berk you told me about, Luv? What was it, Peterson? Pillock?"
Buffy had hung out with enough well-versed British men in the past few years to know Pillock was an insult, not a name, and it made her smother a smile, creating a knowing, secretive grin. Perfect, the duo shared the same thought. "Parker, this is my friend-"
"Spike," Spike ignored Parker's proffered hand as Buffy showed off the extremely flexible nature of her spine, turning to look at their unwelcome guest while her hips still faced the vampire, pelvis snuggled to zip and belt buckle.
"Who's the new conquest?" Spike didn't mince words, and managed to wrap an arm casually yet possessively around Buffy's waist.
"Honey, don't be rude," Buffy leaned forward as if to nibble on his ear, in reality to share a wink and smile.
"Oh, uh, this is Sabrina," Parker fell over his words under Spike's glare and Buffy's seeming lack of interest, combined with the suddenly pissed off date at his elbow. "Sabrina, this is Buffy."
"I was his one night stand, last week," Buffy smiled sweetly.
"God!" Sabrina backed away, looking disgusted.
"You didn't know? Oops. Don't feel bad, he didn't tell me it was a one night stand until the next morning, either."
"Prick!" Sabrina shoved away from Parker, hands out with violent force, forestalling his attempts to explain.
"You should really do some sort of full disclosure in writing," Spike suggested in a bored voice. "Girls don't like the bait and switch. Decent people don't much care for it, either."
"Who are you to lecture me on decency?" Parker's face turned ugly with irritation. "And who are you to- to talk about what happened between us in front of Sabrina? You're not much better! A week later, and here you are with a new guy, new pick up."
"Buffy and I've known each other for years. I was out of town. Now I'm back. We'll be seein' a lot of each other, won't we, Luv?"
She hesitated, torn between the charade and honesty. But in reality- the answer that would satisfy real life and this little skit were the same. "Definitely."
"An' I'm no decent human bein'. But I do know how to treat a lady. Don't I, Baby?" He switched his liquid nitrogen stare from Parker to a smoldering simmer at her.
"You're the best of the best when it comes to that," she answered, not even having to stretch the truth.
"You had your shot with the genuine article, Pillock, the best girl a man could ask for, lovin' loyal, an' bloody flexible," a wicked leer that made her blush and Parker look ill at ease. "Your loss is my gain. Keep walkin'."
"Parker, not Pillock, Spike," Buffy corrected amiably.
"Terrible with the names of unimportant people," Spike said dismissively.
Parker flipped both middle fingers up aggressively but found himself ignored.
"Nice of you to stop by!" Buffy caroled as he stomped off and slammed the door of the shop.
"That was so much fun!" Buffy's eyes glowed and she bounced on his lap in pure giddiness, the rush of feeling powerful again, of feeling… happy.
He couldn't help but smile and glow back. "He was so brassed off. Deserved it."
Buffy clambered off of him, pretending that they hadn't been uncomfortably close, that she couldn't feel the reaction he had to her, and that she hadn't briefly considered exploring it. "Thank you a billion times."
"No, thank you. Always fun to wind up bastards like him," he paused. Worth taking a risk. "I meant what I said about you."
"I meant what I said, too," she confessed, feeling heat rushing up her chest, flooding her cheeks under his unblinking stare.
"We're closing," a tired-looking barista informed them.
This could be the end of the adventure. Or it could just be a nudge pushing them to the next destination. "Shall we?" Spike offered her his elbow.
"I guess we shall."
To be continued...
