Title: Pillow Talk (The Evil Within - Chapter 7)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG -13
Pairing Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.
Feedback: Yes, please
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox...
Just Borrowing. (with, of course, the exception of Emma, who belongs to
Buffy and Spike)
Summary: Willow takes Xander home and gives her something she won't soon
forget. Spike and Buffy go back to the house and try to sort through
Cyrus' information, but get sidetracked. Still, they start on a plan to
defend their daughter against the evil within.
Pillow Talk
"Thanks for taking me home, Will," Xander said as she helped him through the door of the apartment, kicking it shut behind them.
"Oh, so you do use words?" Willow snarked. "The humminess was giving me the wiggins." She settled Xander on the couch and plopped down next to him. " Do you need anything?"
"Aspirin," Xander sighed, rubbing his temples. "Water."
"Can do." Willow hopped back up from the couch and headed for the kitchen. She heard the humming start again as soon as she walked out of sight. Shaking her head, she opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water and rummaged through the drawers for aspirin. "Hate it when I get a tune stuck in my head," she called from the kitchen, trying to distract him from his tune.
"Hunh?"
"Never told anyone this, but this one time, I got 'Oops, I Did it Again' stuck in my head for a *week*." Willow walked back in from the kitchen, settling back down next to him and handing Xander the open bottle of water and three extra strength Tylenol. He grabbed them both, gulping the pills down hungrily. "Talk about embarrassed," Willow continued. " I mean I don't even listen to...."
Before Willow could finish the sentence, Xander grabbed her shoulders, pulling her harshly towards him. His eyes. They were cold and flat. "Xander, what..." she squeaked, caught off guard by his movement.
As the question escaped her throat, his lips pressed hard to hers. Willow stiffened as he closed over her. Tara. Anya. What in...what the.. can't move. A flurry of thoughts blew through her mind. He wasn't hurting her. Actually, he relaxed into a tenderness she remembered. Hello, wrong, she thought. Finally, she wrenched herself away.
"Will?" Xander stuttered, his brow furrowed, staring at her eyes from far too close. "I didn't just... we didn't just.."
"Kiss," Willow answered bluntly. She stood, turning and heading for the door.
"Oh, God. Willow. I'm so sorr.."
"It's alright," she answered, touching the knob with her hand. "Happens."
Xander shook his head, not sure if he should be more confused about what he just did or how she was reacting. "Will, you OK?"
"Need to get back to the shop," she answered. "See ya." Her voice was sing songy. Too chirpy. Slowly she opened the door. Faintly, he could hear her humming. Willow doesn't *hum*, Xander thought. Not since the Brittany Spears incident. Before he could utter another sound, the door clicked shut and left him in silence.
*****
Spike gently laid Emma down in her crib. The girl seemed almost narcoleptic sometimes, Spike thought. One minute, she's racing around the Magic Box on newfound legs with pizza all over her face. The next, she's limp against his chest with pizza all over his shirt. She always managed to let him know when it was time to go home. Baby cleaned up. Shirt off. That's more like it, Spike thought.
The house was quiet. Cyrus had left to check into a hotel. Spike wished he could phone Giles to check out his story, but that was more dangerous than just trusting the sot. He seemed on the up and up. Hadn't asked for anything or prodded them for information. Still, the whole thing seemed... contrived. Now a bloody body hopping spell and possible a dodgy demon in the near future. Time for a nap, he thought, stretching in the sunlit hallway and heading for their bedroom.
That is until he reached the door. Buffy was freshly showered, still glistening from the water and that maddening vanilla lotion. Her hair was a pretty tangle of damp curls. She used to wear it like that from time to time, he thought. Made her look wild. Untamed. Then again, something about her would always be untamed.
"Hey," she said casually, as she straightened the bed. She was padding around the room barefoot in a tank top and little striped panties. Does she have any concept of how breathtaking she is?, he thought. "Emma asleep?" Buffy asked.
"Down for the count," he answered, sitting on the edge of the bed. Does he have any idea how perfect he is? she thought, tracing the contours of his bare chest into her mind. She let her thoughts caress him and he visibly relaxed, his eyes closing momentarily, feeling her.
"Where's everyone else?" Buffy asked, tossing the pillows back into place as she touched his shoulders, his arms, in her mind.
Spike snagged her by the hips as she walked past him. A shot of sheer pleasure exploded through her. God, how does he do that?, Buffy thought.
"Still at the shop," he answered, pulling her a little closer. "Or at their *own* homes:" He nuzzled her ear, smelling her shampoo, her soap, the perfume of her skin. Buffy felt her knees buckling and pressed herself against the bed for support. "They're not here," he purred, letting his lips brush the delicate shell of her earlobe, nipping his way down her neck. To him, every inch of her body was meant to be worshipped from her pretty blonde head to her painted pink toes.
"So, we're alone?" Buffy said as he laid siege on her neck, little nips down her shoulder that send electric shocks to every inch of her skin. "Except for Emma?"
"Who sleeps like her father," Spike whispered, pulling her tight against him, her chest pressing to his.
"And she's out?" Buffy whispered, tentatively.
"Utterly knackered," Spike responded, kissing down her shoulders, her arms, her tiny, soft hands. She smiled, her body melting into him, her heart winding through his. She could say one thing. Since they had been joined, everything about being together was intense. Their talking, their fighting, and especially this. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Every touch was mind blowing.
"So what do you suppose we do in our free time?" Buffy said, slyly smiling and climbing onto his lap. Her soft, coral lips brushed his. She could feel his entire body shudder around her.
"Research," he snarked, returning a painfully gentle kiss.
"Research?" Buffy asked, her hands running lazy trails over his bare back.
"Yes," Spike answered, flipping her effortlessly onto her back. "I was thinking that I could start here," he said, kissing her eyelids shut, "and study everything about you," His fingers ran lazy spirals down her arms as his mind pushed much more intimate buttons.
"In the name of science," Buffy responded, grinning up at him," I'm willing to help in any way I can. But only if you're thorough."
"I am nothing, Pet," Spike purred, kissing her nose, her lips, her chin, "if not thorough."
*****
"Uuummmmm," Buffy hummed, her cheek pressed to his chest. Her arm was draped over his stomach, her leg tossed over his thighs. "Like research. Research good."
Spike chuckled, twisting her hair softly as she spoke. "I would say that that round of ... research... was particularly satisfying."
"If you mean yummy, I agree," Buffy purred, rolling over on her back. As had become customary, all bedding was strewn across the floor, despite the fact that they had managed to stay on the mattress.
"Yummy?" Spike asked, raising an eyebrow.
Buffy giggled. The word just sounded odd coming from his mouth. "Yummy," she repeated. "How do you do that?"
"What, Pet?" Spike rolled over and propped himself on his elbow, looking down on her flushed face. She was glowing. Radiant. Softly, he brushed her now dried hair from her face.
"That thing."
"What *thing*?"
"The one that makes my legs stop working?" Buffy sighed, flopping boneless calves against the bed.
"Ancient Chinese Secret," Spike snarked, leaning down and kissing her perfect, taut stomach. Buffy giggled again, feeling utterly relaxed for the first time in days.
"Thought you were English?"
"Doesn't mean a bloke can't *learn*."
"Ah," Buffy said, half hurt, half elated. "Lots of practice."
Spike looked down at her pretty green eyes. "Nothing," he began, "was ever real until you."
All of Buffy's jealousy melted into his crystal blue gaze. He meant it. She knew he did. "I love you. You know that, right?" she asked, letting her fingers slip through his ruffled blond hair.
"I do," he answered. "I do know that."
"Good," she answered, nuzzling in closer to him.
"And of course you know..."
"That you love me?"
"Everything about you."
"Even the bossy, snappy parts?"
"Even those. Although not quite as fond of those as I am, say, the kinder gentler bits. But I love them all the same," Spike answered, kissing her nose. "You know that this is all I ever wanted. "
"What is?"
"For you to love me even half as much as I have loved you. Half as much as I have always loved you," he whispered, stroking her hair.
"Well, you got me," Buffy said softly. "And it's much more than half."
Spike buried his face in her hair. It *was* all he wanted. All he needed. If, in the rest of his days, not one other goodness was granted to him, he could stand at judgement and say he'd died a happy man.
"What are we going to do?" Buffy asked, burying her face in his chest, letting her fingers trace patterns on his skin.
"About what, Love?"
"What Cyrus said?"
"Well, make sure no one is ever alone with Emma. The spell can only effect one body at a time."
"What about the demon? There's going to be a demon," Buffy whispered, resigned to the fact that nothing was every easy.
"Think you're probably right, Pet," Spike answered, resting his chin on the top of her head, still smoothing her long hair down her back.
"So how do you want to do this? You stay, I slay?"
"Don't feel quite right setting you loose with a demon wanting to *disarm* us mucking about," Spike answered, kissing the crown of her head.
"But we don't want to leave Emma alone with anyone that was in the gym," Buffy said, frustration coming out in the quiet sigh of her voice.
"No," Spike said simply.
"There's Cyrus," she said, not really wanting to even consider the option.
"Think he's on the up and up, but don't quite trust him with our little girl," Spike said, letting his fingers trail down her back. She moved impossibly closer.
"I know," she whispered in response. "Clem?"
Spike chuckled. "Not bad. Trust the old boy, but not sure he'd be much on the protecting bit. Can barely fight his way out of a box of Bugles."
Buffy giggled, her breath blowing against his chest. Slowly, the uncomfortable silence settled in. She knew it was coming. They had had the same thought.
"Love, if you want, we can call..."
"I don't want."
"Angel's a good choice," Spike said, despite himself.
"Not liking the way things turned out the last time."
"Thought you'd talked that out after he figured out the bit with Emma?" Spike asked.
"We did," Buffy said simply. She retreated from Spike just enough that he noticed her face was no longer settled against his chest. That her muscles were tight as if her guard went up. "But I just don't want to do that again. Not unless I have to." At least she was still talking, Spike thought.
"Buffy?" Spike asked, easing her face level with his, his fingers pressing against her chin. "Did he... hurt you?"
"No. No, nothing like that. It's just too... awkward," Buffy answered, pulling further away, withdrawing into herself. Spike could feel the void in her wake.
"Do you still... I mean, are you..." Spike stuttered.
"What?" Buffy asked, frustrated. Dealing was never going to be her strong suit. She was just getting used to happy.
"Are you still in love with him?" Spike asked, swallowing. Fearing the question. Fearing the answer.
"No," Buffy answered simply. "But I did. Once. And having him around reminds me of ... then."
"Brings back how you felt?" Spike sighed with resignation. Knew I should've never let the Poof back in this house, he thought.
"Would you stop, whiny boy?" Buffy asked, feeling his insecurity in her own blood. "No. It doesn't. Not like that. It reminds me of when things were... harder. When I was alone. And afraid."
Spike was silent for a long moment. Too long, Buffy thought.
"Aren't you going to say something?" she asked, looking back up at him. His jaw was set.
"Still smarting from the whiny boy comment," Spike snarked.
"Ugh, men," Buffy whined, pounding his chest and flopping back against the pillow. "The point *is* that I like it much better now. I finally feel ... not alone."
"You're not, Pet," Spike said, stroking her hair again and settling her back against him. This was good. She was talking. Something it took her a long time to do. Can't be too hard on her, he thought.
"I know. And I like having you around. Well, most of the time."
"See, knew there was a bloody catch. Most of the time," Spike babbled.
"Would you *stop*!" Buffy exclaimed, hopping up onto her knees, straddling his chest. "What more do you need? I tell you I love you. I chase you down in hell. I have your baby. I even change my name..."
"You said that was for Emma," Spike teased
"Right," she answered, blowing her own cover. But only for him. "Same reason I wear the ring on the left. Come off it Spike." She sent a pillow crashing down across his face. "You *know* that I love you. That I'm in love with you."
"Still like hearing you say it," Spike said, raising his eyebrows and prompting another attack of the flying pillow.
"Well, I did. Happy?" Buffy huffed.
"Elated," he purred, grabbing her hands and easing her flush against his chest. He lifted his head from the pillows, letting his lips brush against hers. "I love you always."
"Always?" she asked innocently.
"Every day."
She hummed softly against his lips, drinking him in.
"We'll talk to Cyrus tonight," Spike said softly, his arms wrapping around her bare waist. "Make a plan. Take it from there."
"Ok," Buffy agreed, falling back into the kiss.
"Do a little more research," Spike whispered between kisses.
"The yummy kind?" Buffy asked.
"Musty first, yummy later," Spike responded as her hair fell around his face and he drowned in her once again.
To be contd.
Pillow Talk
"Thanks for taking me home, Will," Xander said as she helped him through the door of the apartment, kicking it shut behind them.
"Oh, so you do use words?" Willow snarked. "The humminess was giving me the wiggins." She settled Xander on the couch and plopped down next to him. " Do you need anything?"
"Aspirin," Xander sighed, rubbing his temples. "Water."
"Can do." Willow hopped back up from the couch and headed for the kitchen. She heard the humming start again as soon as she walked out of sight. Shaking her head, she opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water and rummaged through the drawers for aspirin. "Hate it when I get a tune stuck in my head," she called from the kitchen, trying to distract him from his tune.
"Hunh?"
"Never told anyone this, but this one time, I got 'Oops, I Did it Again' stuck in my head for a *week*." Willow walked back in from the kitchen, settling back down next to him and handing Xander the open bottle of water and three extra strength Tylenol. He grabbed them both, gulping the pills down hungrily. "Talk about embarrassed," Willow continued. " I mean I don't even listen to...."
Before Willow could finish the sentence, Xander grabbed her shoulders, pulling her harshly towards him. His eyes. They were cold and flat. "Xander, what..." she squeaked, caught off guard by his movement.
As the question escaped her throat, his lips pressed hard to hers. Willow stiffened as he closed over her. Tara. Anya. What in...what the.. can't move. A flurry of thoughts blew through her mind. He wasn't hurting her. Actually, he relaxed into a tenderness she remembered. Hello, wrong, she thought. Finally, she wrenched herself away.
"Will?" Xander stuttered, his brow furrowed, staring at her eyes from far too close. "I didn't just... we didn't just.."
"Kiss," Willow answered bluntly. She stood, turning and heading for the door.
"Oh, God. Willow. I'm so sorr.."
"It's alright," she answered, touching the knob with her hand. "Happens."
Xander shook his head, not sure if he should be more confused about what he just did or how she was reacting. "Will, you OK?"
"Need to get back to the shop," she answered. "See ya." Her voice was sing songy. Too chirpy. Slowly she opened the door. Faintly, he could hear her humming. Willow doesn't *hum*, Xander thought. Not since the Brittany Spears incident. Before he could utter another sound, the door clicked shut and left him in silence.
*****
Spike gently laid Emma down in her crib. The girl seemed almost narcoleptic sometimes, Spike thought. One minute, she's racing around the Magic Box on newfound legs with pizza all over her face. The next, she's limp against his chest with pizza all over his shirt. She always managed to let him know when it was time to go home. Baby cleaned up. Shirt off. That's more like it, Spike thought.
The house was quiet. Cyrus had left to check into a hotel. Spike wished he could phone Giles to check out his story, but that was more dangerous than just trusting the sot. He seemed on the up and up. Hadn't asked for anything or prodded them for information. Still, the whole thing seemed... contrived. Now a bloody body hopping spell and possible a dodgy demon in the near future. Time for a nap, he thought, stretching in the sunlit hallway and heading for their bedroom.
That is until he reached the door. Buffy was freshly showered, still glistening from the water and that maddening vanilla lotion. Her hair was a pretty tangle of damp curls. She used to wear it like that from time to time, he thought. Made her look wild. Untamed. Then again, something about her would always be untamed.
"Hey," she said casually, as she straightened the bed. She was padding around the room barefoot in a tank top and little striped panties. Does she have any concept of how breathtaking she is?, he thought. "Emma asleep?" Buffy asked.
"Down for the count," he answered, sitting on the edge of the bed. Does he have any idea how perfect he is? she thought, tracing the contours of his bare chest into her mind. She let her thoughts caress him and he visibly relaxed, his eyes closing momentarily, feeling her.
"Where's everyone else?" Buffy asked, tossing the pillows back into place as she touched his shoulders, his arms, in her mind.
Spike snagged her by the hips as she walked past him. A shot of sheer pleasure exploded through her. God, how does he do that?, Buffy thought.
"Still at the shop," he answered, pulling her a little closer. "Or at their *own* homes:" He nuzzled her ear, smelling her shampoo, her soap, the perfume of her skin. Buffy felt her knees buckling and pressed herself against the bed for support. "They're not here," he purred, letting his lips brush the delicate shell of her earlobe, nipping his way down her neck. To him, every inch of her body was meant to be worshipped from her pretty blonde head to her painted pink toes.
"So, we're alone?" Buffy said as he laid siege on her neck, little nips down her shoulder that send electric shocks to every inch of her skin. "Except for Emma?"
"Who sleeps like her father," Spike whispered, pulling her tight against him, her chest pressing to his.
"And she's out?" Buffy whispered, tentatively.
"Utterly knackered," Spike responded, kissing down her shoulders, her arms, her tiny, soft hands. She smiled, her body melting into him, her heart winding through his. She could say one thing. Since they had been joined, everything about being together was intense. Their talking, their fighting, and especially this. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Every touch was mind blowing.
"So what do you suppose we do in our free time?" Buffy said, slyly smiling and climbing onto his lap. Her soft, coral lips brushed his. She could feel his entire body shudder around her.
"Research," he snarked, returning a painfully gentle kiss.
"Research?" Buffy asked, her hands running lazy trails over his bare back.
"Yes," Spike answered, flipping her effortlessly onto her back. "I was thinking that I could start here," he said, kissing her eyelids shut, "and study everything about you," His fingers ran lazy spirals down her arms as his mind pushed much more intimate buttons.
"In the name of science," Buffy responded, grinning up at him," I'm willing to help in any way I can. But only if you're thorough."
"I am nothing, Pet," Spike purred, kissing her nose, her lips, her chin, "if not thorough."
*****
"Uuummmmm," Buffy hummed, her cheek pressed to his chest. Her arm was draped over his stomach, her leg tossed over his thighs. "Like research. Research good."
Spike chuckled, twisting her hair softly as she spoke. "I would say that that round of ... research... was particularly satisfying."
"If you mean yummy, I agree," Buffy purred, rolling over on her back. As had become customary, all bedding was strewn across the floor, despite the fact that they had managed to stay on the mattress.
"Yummy?" Spike asked, raising an eyebrow.
Buffy giggled. The word just sounded odd coming from his mouth. "Yummy," she repeated. "How do you do that?"
"What, Pet?" Spike rolled over and propped himself on his elbow, looking down on her flushed face. She was glowing. Radiant. Softly, he brushed her now dried hair from her face.
"That thing."
"What *thing*?"
"The one that makes my legs stop working?" Buffy sighed, flopping boneless calves against the bed.
"Ancient Chinese Secret," Spike snarked, leaning down and kissing her perfect, taut stomach. Buffy giggled again, feeling utterly relaxed for the first time in days.
"Thought you were English?"
"Doesn't mean a bloke can't *learn*."
"Ah," Buffy said, half hurt, half elated. "Lots of practice."
Spike looked down at her pretty green eyes. "Nothing," he began, "was ever real until you."
All of Buffy's jealousy melted into his crystal blue gaze. He meant it. She knew he did. "I love you. You know that, right?" she asked, letting her fingers slip through his ruffled blond hair.
"I do," he answered. "I do know that."
"Good," she answered, nuzzling in closer to him.
"And of course you know..."
"That you love me?"
"Everything about you."
"Even the bossy, snappy parts?"
"Even those. Although not quite as fond of those as I am, say, the kinder gentler bits. But I love them all the same," Spike answered, kissing her nose. "You know that this is all I ever wanted. "
"What is?"
"For you to love me even half as much as I have loved you. Half as much as I have always loved you," he whispered, stroking her hair.
"Well, you got me," Buffy said softly. "And it's much more than half."
Spike buried his face in her hair. It *was* all he wanted. All he needed. If, in the rest of his days, not one other goodness was granted to him, he could stand at judgement and say he'd died a happy man.
"What are we going to do?" Buffy asked, burying her face in his chest, letting her fingers trace patterns on his skin.
"About what, Love?"
"What Cyrus said?"
"Well, make sure no one is ever alone with Emma. The spell can only effect one body at a time."
"What about the demon? There's going to be a demon," Buffy whispered, resigned to the fact that nothing was every easy.
"Think you're probably right, Pet," Spike answered, resting his chin on the top of her head, still smoothing her long hair down her back.
"So how do you want to do this? You stay, I slay?"
"Don't feel quite right setting you loose with a demon wanting to *disarm* us mucking about," Spike answered, kissing the crown of her head.
"But we don't want to leave Emma alone with anyone that was in the gym," Buffy said, frustration coming out in the quiet sigh of her voice.
"No," Spike said simply.
"There's Cyrus," she said, not really wanting to even consider the option.
"Think he's on the up and up, but don't quite trust him with our little girl," Spike said, letting his fingers trail down her back. She moved impossibly closer.
"I know," she whispered in response. "Clem?"
Spike chuckled. "Not bad. Trust the old boy, but not sure he'd be much on the protecting bit. Can barely fight his way out of a box of Bugles."
Buffy giggled, her breath blowing against his chest. Slowly, the uncomfortable silence settled in. She knew it was coming. They had had the same thought.
"Love, if you want, we can call..."
"I don't want."
"Angel's a good choice," Spike said, despite himself.
"Not liking the way things turned out the last time."
"Thought you'd talked that out after he figured out the bit with Emma?" Spike asked.
"We did," Buffy said simply. She retreated from Spike just enough that he noticed her face was no longer settled against his chest. That her muscles were tight as if her guard went up. "But I just don't want to do that again. Not unless I have to." At least she was still talking, Spike thought.
"Buffy?" Spike asked, easing her face level with his, his fingers pressing against her chin. "Did he... hurt you?"
"No. No, nothing like that. It's just too... awkward," Buffy answered, pulling further away, withdrawing into herself. Spike could feel the void in her wake.
"Do you still... I mean, are you..." Spike stuttered.
"What?" Buffy asked, frustrated. Dealing was never going to be her strong suit. She was just getting used to happy.
"Are you still in love with him?" Spike asked, swallowing. Fearing the question. Fearing the answer.
"No," Buffy answered simply. "But I did. Once. And having him around reminds me of ... then."
"Brings back how you felt?" Spike sighed with resignation. Knew I should've never let the Poof back in this house, he thought.
"Would you stop, whiny boy?" Buffy asked, feeling his insecurity in her own blood. "No. It doesn't. Not like that. It reminds me of when things were... harder. When I was alone. And afraid."
Spike was silent for a long moment. Too long, Buffy thought.
"Aren't you going to say something?" she asked, looking back up at him. His jaw was set.
"Still smarting from the whiny boy comment," Spike snarked.
"Ugh, men," Buffy whined, pounding his chest and flopping back against the pillow. "The point *is* that I like it much better now. I finally feel ... not alone."
"You're not, Pet," Spike said, stroking her hair again and settling her back against him. This was good. She was talking. Something it took her a long time to do. Can't be too hard on her, he thought.
"I know. And I like having you around. Well, most of the time."
"See, knew there was a bloody catch. Most of the time," Spike babbled.
"Would you *stop*!" Buffy exclaimed, hopping up onto her knees, straddling his chest. "What more do you need? I tell you I love you. I chase you down in hell. I have your baby. I even change my name..."
"You said that was for Emma," Spike teased
"Right," she answered, blowing her own cover. But only for him. "Same reason I wear the ring on the left. Come off it Spike." She sent a pillow crashing down across his face. "You *know* that I love you. That I'm in love with you."
"Still like hearing you say it," Spike said, raising his eyebrows and prompting another attack of the flying pillow.
"Well, I did. Happy?" Buffy huffed.
"Elated," he purred, grabbing her hands and easing her flush against his chest. He lifted his head from the pillows, letting his lips brush against hers. "I love you always."
"Always?" she asked innocently.
"Every day."
She hummed softly against his lips, drinking him in.
"We'll talk to Cyrus tonight," Spike said softly, his arms wrapping around her bare waist. "Make a plan. Take it from there."
"Ok," Buffy agreed, falling back into the kiss.
"Do a little more research," Spike whispered between kisses.
"The yummy kind?" Buffy asked.
"Musty first, yummy later," Spike responded as her hair fell around his face and he drowned in her once again.
To be contd.
