Our Own Special Brand of Normal

Buffy lay in the hollow place between asleep and awake, where all was good with the world. She felt safe and warm.

She hadn't felt safe in a long time. In forever. She was surrounded by Spike's scent and the weight of his strong arms. She was vaguely aware of one leg cast possessively over hers.

It felt right.

She had a hazy awareness, at the very corner of her consciousness that she should be upset for some unknown reason. But she ignored it and swam in her bliss. Loath to wake fully and bring on the reality of morning.

Suddenly, a loud obnoxious blaring filled the room and Buffy groaned at her alarm. Spike leapt to his feet in full game face, scowled at the alarm, and kicked it clear across the room. It smashed against the wall, breaking into wonderfully small pieces, and made a delightful crushing noise.

Cobwebs cleared from her head and suddenly her destroyed alarm was not in any way amusing. Sure, she fantasized about breaking it sometimes, but she needed the damn thing and had set it herself.

Not to mention, why was Spike standing on her bed, destroying her things, and cursing a blue streak anyway? He was supposed to be downstairs.

He was staring down at her. He let the demon slip from his face, but it didn't take his predatory expression with it. He was bare from the waist up, sleep tousled, and entirely too tasty for his own good. She felt herself blushing as she recalled just how he tasted. "That was bloody obnoxious!" he declared decisively, head tilted, eyes a deep shade of blue that she could get lost in.

"What are you doing in my room?" She succeeded in the icy cool tone of voice she shot for and smiled inside. He would not get to her. Today, Giles would figure out how to rid her of this bleached moron and she would never think lusty thoughts about Vampires again. Except Angel, because that was as normal as her life got.

Vampires, apocalypses, college confusion, and impossible love. Welcome to her world. Still better than being mated to a sadistic soulless creature of the night who knew just how to touch her to make her insides melt and her brain crash.

"I was sleeping! Until that bleedin' siren went off," he growled at her. She couldn't help the small smile that graced her lips. "No respect for the sleep of the living dead, you humans. What was that damn thing? Some sort of standard issue Vampire torture device issued to all Slayers on completion of boot camp?"

Spike made it easy to forget how old he was, with his energy and leather. But he hadn't kept time in over a hundred years. She tried to tell herself it wasn't funny but she couldn't stop the choked laughter that bubbled up in her chest. He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it. Something about his face made her think he was messing with her but she went with it anyway because, well, why not?

"Yep." She said, smacking the "P" sound, trying to sound as cheery and obnoxious as possible. "We're planning on getting portable models and hiding them in strategic places throughout the cemeteries." She giggled again at his outraged face, but when he smiled back at her she stopped laughing abruptly. This was not funny; she was not having a fun moment with a vicious killer. "I need to be up, I have classes today."

He frowned at her, his whole face contracting into a dark expression, and glanced at the windows. Even with the heavy drapes the sun filtered through giving them a bit of a glow. "It's freakishly early Slayer. When the bloody hell do you sleep?"

He was still standing on her bed, and the whole scene was just a little too weird for her. She needed to get up and get dressed, but he was standing there, just looking at her. His head was tilted to the side, arms loose at his hips. As if she was fascinating.

She didn't meet his eyes; instead, she focused on the column of his throat. That might have been a mistake. Because she found herself riveted by the hollow in the center. He swallowed and she ripped her gaze away.

He met her eyes, and she wanted to hit him. He was smirking at her again, he knew. He knew how he affected her. She fumbled in her head for words and some little soft sound came out of her mouth. She tore her eyes away from his so she could concentrate and stared at her bedspread instead.

"This is when the living are up and about. Every once in awhile I like to pretend I'm just one of them." Where did that come from? She looked up at him in alarm as he dropped down next to her cross legged. Her body hummed at his nearness, but he kept his hands to himself. She needed to lighten the mood. Serious talks with Spike, with vague references to her insecurities, were so not of the good.

"Can't take night school, too busy slaying and saving the world, and getting bitten." That came out too serious and bitter still. So she gave a small smile, and he mirrored it.

"Being normal is boring, Summers. At least your life is exciting. I mean, do you really want to hole up with some average bloke, get some boring desk job, and squeeze out a couple of pups?" His eyes were dancing mischievously and she realized he was teasing her. Well, two could play at that game.

"Better than being bonded for life to a serial killer with a penchant for leather." He laughed. Not a full blown giggle or anything like that, just a soft chuckle. He turned his head a little and then swiveled his head to look back at her.

"Check and mate, Summers." He curled his tongue under his teeth in that way of his and she prayed he didn't notice when her breathing sped up. "So today we figure out how to get divorced, huh? You can get back to that normal life of yours. Slaying and college and all that rot." His sarcastic tone was not lost on her. She tossed her head and tried to give him her haughty stare. She wasn't sure she pulled it off. She never was as good as, say, Cordelia, at that sort of thing.

"College is normal! I live in the dorms and everything. The teachers are condescending, the guys are asses, and the work is impossible. I'm getting the whole normal experience."

He snorted and shook his head at her. "So that's why you live in the dorms of a college that's two miles from home, to get that taste of normal, eh, pet?" Vampires were not supposed to be so damn perceptive, and she found it irritated her. How had he gotten to the heart of the matter so quickly, when her closest friends were so wide off the mark? It put her back up, made her bristle. "Who's been being an ass, want me to eat him?"

"I don't see why you care, anyway," she hissed at him, failing miserably at calm and collected. "Like you said, we're most likely getting, how did you put it, divorced today? Then I won't be your problem anymore and we can go back to trying to kill each other, like normal. I'll feel heaps better once I dust you."

He laughed at her again, throwing his head back a bit and rolling his eyes. His skin was as thick as rubber tires. Nothing insulted him. She would have to try harder.

He reached over her to grab his smokes off the nightstand and her brain shorted out as he brushed up against her with those steel biceps of his. She tried to picture him hitting the gym and couldn't manage. But he must work out, because muscles like that were not standard Vampire issue. She'd slayed enough paunchy, overweight, balding men to know.

He lit a cigarette, and she hated herself for watching with a sick fascination as he put the smoke between his lips and bent his head to the flame. Smoking was gross and disgusting and watching him play with fire was in no way sexy.

He seemed to know that her thoughts had derailed and gave her his customary smirk before he blew a fat smoke ring. She bit back the desire to tell him he couldn't smoke in her room. He couldn't go outside and she would rather he smoked in her room than the rest of the house. Her mom would be home tomorrow and she was bound to smell the smoke everywhere.

"There is no normal, pet. Just a herd of people scampering about, trying to blend in. They're sheep Summers. It's the people who stand out who make the difference." He blew another ring and leaned back against her headboard, gesturing with his cigarette hand like he was imparting some great discovery. "Truth is, people are more accepting of the deviant than you'd like to think. Look at musicians and movie stars."

Buffy frowned at him. What was she doing? Sitting in bed having a friendly chat with the resident vampire. She needed mental help. Unfortunately, any therapist would throw her into a white padded room and give her a fancy new jacket to wear.

"I need to change." He raised his eyebrow at her and continued to smoke. "You need to leave." He crossed his feet at the ankles and smirked up at her. She gave him her worst scowl, to no effect, and climbed out of bed with a frustrated huff. He was impossible.

She really needed to get some flannel pajamas from the dorm today, she thought, as she fought a blush. Spike definitely noticed what she had on based on his sharp inhale and the kick of lust and awareness that went through the bond like a slamming door.

Burning with embarrassment, she scuttled to her dresser, grabbing the necessities and snatching the first dress in her closet before dashing out the door. Thank God for Slayer speed. She risked a glance behind her and found Spike's gaze glued to her, his eyes glazed over with lust. The sight had her fleeing for the bathroom like the hounds of hell were licking at her heels.

She stared at herself in the full length bathroom mirror. He probably thought that she had worn this number for him. Pink satin cups pushed her breasts together, little tiny spaghetti straps held them up. The skirt flared from under her breasts but the length was non-existent. It barely brushed her thighs and was made out of almost transparent silk. You could see the matching panties right through it.

If she was honest with herself, she felt a surge of feminine pride that she could reduce Spike to speechlessness. God knew that was a rare occurrence. Worse, if she really stopped to examine her motives, she had known that there was a possibility that he might see her, and it had thrilled her last night when she had put it on.

She closed her eyes and let herself replay the night before. She let the peculiar mix of shame and excitement wash over her as she remembered the way his hands felt on her, his electric touch. His lips on her skin. He made her feel beautiful and sexy. The way he had spoken to her last night had been beyond erotic. Half sentences of desire. Little growls and moans and the desperate way he had ripped her gown right from her body.

Like he needed her beyond all reason.

When he touched her he made her feel like she was the only woman on earth, and that he would die without her. But she knew that wasn't true. Knew that Drusilla was who he was in love with, if it could even be called that. Could Vampires even love? He had no soul. Linked to him this way, she knew what he could feel was intense and powerful, but could it be called love?

She sank down onto the toilet stool and groaned. She had given him head. She had never tried it before and was kind of horrified that she had so willingly participated in something so dirty.

She had no excuse. She had enjoyed it. She had been all caught up in the moment and he had responded so passionately when she had touched him with her hand. Bucking his hips, saying her name and encouraging her.

Now she knew why woman gave blowjobs in the first place. Taking him into her mouth had reduced him to babbling, swearing, and begging. He'd called her baby and sweetheart and told her she sucked cock like a goddess. How could he say the word cock and make it a compliment? Regardless of his raunchy language there, had been no doubt that she had been doing a good job.

It had been amazing. She had felt all powerful. He had been completely at her mercy and he had liked it.

This was so not good. What was she thinking? She couldn't let it happen again. It was beyond wrong. It was immoral! A betrayal to everyone she loved. Spike had tried to kill them all, more than once. He had no remorse for the thousands of people he must have killed and would kill again the minute he left her home. Probably starting with her and her friends.

Had he murdered someone last night? Oh God! The edge of his hunger was gone, even if he wasn't full. Had he ripped someone's throat out and then came back and made love to her? No, not making love, sex.

What was wrong with her? How could she want someone so evil? And she did want him. Even listing all the reasons she shouldn't in her head she couldn't shake the memory of how he had felt inside her.

Filling her up and making her writhe with pleasure. The worst part was that, this time, she couldn't even tell herself that he had seduced her. She had been a willing participant.

It would not happen again. She was not going to let him get to her. She was a strong, independent, young woman. She was the Slayer. She was going to be late for class.

She showered and dressed quickly and stared at herself in the mirror again. She wished she would have grabbed another dress. This one left an awful lot of skin bare. Not that he hadn't seen it all already.

He wasn't in her bedroom anymore, she could feel him somewhere downstairs. Buffy heaved a sigh of relief and made quick work of her hair and make-up. She didn't have time to blow dry her long tresses, so she just wrapped them up in a pony tail.

She stared at her hands. Today she would find time to give herself a manicure. She didn't look ragged yet, but slaying was hard on her hands. She dug out a pair of simple yellow sandals to go with her dress and ran downstairs.

She was starving. All she had had yesterday was a couple of slices of pizza, and she hoped her mom had stocked something she could eat on the run.

Something smelled good. She opened the kitchen door with trepidation and smiled. Waffles. That was the smell. Spike was making waffles. He had hauled out her mother's old waffle iron and somehow produced batter.

"Whaddya like on your waffles, Slayer?" he asked, sincere as could be. It should be funny, Spike cooking, but it wasn't. If was nine kinds of fantastic because she was starving.

He had put the rest of his clothes on, much to her disappointment. He was wearing a different t-shirt, she could tell because it was faded, and his Doc Martens. His hair once again in order. Still, without his coat, he looked different, more accessible...more kissable. She shoved that thought harshly to the side and focused on what he had asked her.

"Just the usual: syrup, butter," she answered, even as she opened the fridge and fished out the butter. "Syrup's above your head there." He got it out for her and set her plate and the syrup on the breakfast bar as she sat down. He grabbed his own waffle and sat next to her as easy as if they had been having breakfast together for twenty years.

"Why'd you cook for me?" She bit her tongue even as she said it. He was going to get pissed off or embarrassed. Not that she cared. She didn't. But as usual nothing bothered him. He just shrugged his shoulders.

"Hungry aren't you? Everybody likes waffles." He covered his plate with syrup and took a huge bite. "It's good, eat up."

So she did. And it was. She put her plate in the growing pile of dishes in the sink. She heaved a visible sigh of relief at the sight of a bloody mug on the counter. She didn't have to stake him, at least right now. The tension of wondering what he had been up to drained out of her and she was surprised at how much better she felt.

She had to go, but she found herself paused awkwardly by the door. She had the strangest urge to lean over and give him a kiss goodbye. How weird was that? "Need a ride to school?" he asked.

"It's broad daylight Spike."

"Windows are blacked out." She bit her lip and thought about it. She was already late. If she called a cab, it would take forever for them to get there. Xander was probably working. It was a long walk. While she was thinking Spike was already getting his duster on and grabbing a blanket from the living room.

"Come on then, Slayer," he called behind him as he dashed out the door and to his car. She pulled the door shut behind her and followed him. He waited for her to close her door before he let the blanket fall down.

"How can you see to drive?" He pointed at some small scratches in the paint on the windshield and she groaned. This was probably a very bad idea.

"S'ok Slayer. Vampire vision and reflexes." She groaned again and he pulled out of her driveway. She buckled her seatbelt tightly and she didn't talk. She didn't want to distract him from driving.

She had no idea if he followed traffic regulations. She couldn't see anything. It felt like they were going too fast. He hummed under his breath and drove with one hand as if he didn't have a care in the world, casual as hell. She was amazed she didn't break the door handle she was gripping it so hard.

"This is it, Slayer." He said, the car rolling to a stop. She unscrewed her hand from the door handle and flexed her tense fingers to loosen them up. "Need a ride home later?"

Ok, that was freakishly boyfriend like. Demons, Hellspawn, and Vampires were one thing, but that was just plain scary. Everything about this whole situation was just scary. "No, I'll get a ride. Spike, don't answer the phone."

She could just see her mom calling and having some strange man answer the phone. Granted, for some odd reason, her mom seemed to like Spike, but not that much. He grinned that unrepentant grin of his and shot his hand out quicker than thought.

He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss with one smooth motion. His lips were firm and cool, his tongue swept into her mouth and she caught on fire. Just that quickly she was all caught up in the moment. Heat bloomed in her stomach and scorched through her veins and Buffy couldn't help but lean into him and kiss him back. He unbuckled her belt and she slid across the seat to him. She had to touch more of him.

His tongue danced with hers and her head spun. His muscles were firm and impossibly hard beneath her hands. She heard herself moan into his mouth and bit his lip in retribution. Which made him moan back and clutch at her hips harder.

He pulled her onto his lap and she didn't resist. She let one leg slide over so that she straddled him, the steering wheel pushing her up against his chest, so close there was barely breathing room between them. She shifted to get even closer, enjoying the feel of him beneath her. He wasn't going anywhere without her letting him up.

He nibbled and sucked on her bottom lip and she bucked her hips. His hands slid down to her thighs and up under her dress, fingers flexing and caressing. He tore his mouth away from hers and met her eyes. Then he deliberately rotated his hips against hers.

"I want you Summers. Right now."

She was letting it happen again. Buffy pulled some self control out of nowhere and forced herself to focus on something else besides his hardness pressed up against her, the taste of him on her tongue, his warm strong hands on her thighs.

"I have to go to class." She whispered, pulling away from him, physically and mentally. He offered no resistance as she scooted off of him, and then scooted all the way over to the door, fixing her skirt, checking her hair. She sat in her own seat, a trembling hand pressed to her lips, and called herself nine kinds of names for getting pulled in so easily. It must be the mating. That must be why his touch disarmed her so much.

Oh, who was she kidding? He was an incredible lover. The only problem was that he knew it. She was almost disappointed when he didn't pull her back. They both knew that if he touched her again she wouldn't be able to stop. But he seemed content to let her go.

"Best go on then, luv, unless you don't really want to go?" She scowled at him and hopped out of the car, flashing him with sunlight before slamming the door. He yelped and shouted, "Bloody bitch!"

She had to restrain herself from asking if he was alright. She didn't care if he was alright. She didn't. He started up the car and she walked away, mentally checking his condition through their bond. She was so pathetic! She needed to look on the bright side. With the ride and everything, if she ran, she might actually make it to class on time.

Authors Note: Big shout out to Kbeautimous who has been doing the beta reading and is doing such a lovely job. All mistakes are my own, I added some paragraphs after she'd done her thing.