Title: In the Morning Light
Author: KattGoddess
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters (I just wish I do (Spike, at least))The characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
Rating: Pg-13
Spoilers: none
Fighting with Spike was normal for Buffy. But fighting with Spike by her side, helping her was anything but normal. And to add to it, she was grateful that he was there, for this particular demon was huge, and Buffy knew, but would never admit it, that she couldn't fight it alone. Instead of trying to figure out why Spike was helping her and not killing her, Buffy turned her attention to the demon she was fighting.
"Hey! Over here!" she yelled, successfully distracting it from Spike.
The large demon sauntered over to her, forgetting all about the vampire behind it. Buffy jump-kicked and caught it square in the nose with her right foot. Apparently, it didn't like that because it bellowed in pain and charged at Buffy, seething. Right before it attacked, she aimed and kicked it between the legs, testing a theory. It doubled over in pain and fell to the ground. She looked up to see Spike, with a pained expression, and grinned.
"I wanted to know if it was male or female. I'm gonna take a wild guess and say it's male," she explained.
"That was definitely not nice, pet. Just for the record, remember I'm male, ok, luv?" Spike asked.
By now the demon had recovered and was getting up. He now ran for Buffy again, seeing red. He punched and kicked until he decided to give that tactic up, picked her up, and threw her across the cemetery where she landed on a tombstone.
"That was a very bad idea, mate," Spike stated.
He swung around the battle-ax his sire had given him on one of his birth (death?) days, and watched as the head of the demon rolled to the ground. Wiping the blood off the ax with his hands, cutting himself in the process, he walked over to where Buffy had landed. With the demon blood, and his own, on his hands, he picked the unconscious slayer up by the waist, careful but not successfully avoiding the nasty cut down her side where she had landed, and hoisted her over his shoulder. Not noticing that his blood, Buffy's blood, and the demon's blue blood had mingled and mixed together to form a purplish color on his hands and her blouse, Spike walked the short distance to his crypt.
He kicked the metal door open, the sound making Buffy stir but not waken. Spike laid her down on the coffin cover that he often did his nails on. He walked over to the door and slammed it shut. This time the noise made Buffy jump up, look around, and glare at the peroxide-bleached blond vampire looking at her with an amused glint in his icey-blue eyes.
"What the hell was that for?" she demanded, getting up.
"What, you expected prince charming to wake you up with a kiss, luv?" Spike asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Buffy shuddered at the thought, and a small breezed blew through making her shiver. She looked down and found the side of her ivory blouse slashed.
"Dammit, this was my favorite shirt!" she complained. She looked up at an amused Spike and asked,
"You wouldn't happen to have an extra shirt or anything, would you?"
He gestured to a dresser behind her.
"Help yourself."
Buffy opened the top drawer, and instead of finding a shirt of any kind, she was staring at six pairs of silky black boxers.
"Charming," she commented, feeling herself blush.
"Behind her, she heard Spike chuckle. Quickly closing the drawer, opening the second, Buffy pulled out a red knit sweater. She looked over her shoulder, told Spike to turn around, and proceeded to take off her blouse and slip on the too large sweater. Little did she know that Spike was watching her in an unused mirror.
As the sweater was over her face, concealing her features, Buffy inhaled the scent that reeked Spike: the mix of cigarette smoke, the acrid scent of blood, and Spike's own unique odor.
Looking her self over, Buffy thought to herself, this is a major fashion no-no! I look like Christmas lights.
And indeed she did, with her forest green jeans and Spike's red sweater. Listening to the coming storm, Buffy looked up at Spike with her emerald green eyes.
"Just so I don't look like a Christmas tree, and seeing as I won't be leaving until the storm passes," she turned around, plucked a piece of clothing out of Spike's drawer, "I'm gonna borrow these," she declared, holding up a pair of boxers. Spike's eyes widened briefly before he burst out laughing. He laughed until his side ached and was coughing. The he looked up at Buffy with pure terror as he kept on coughing. Dropping the boxers, she went over to the hunched over figure that was panting.
"Spike?"
Buffy's question rang out as a shock of lightening filled the sky followed by a clap of thunder.
Wheezing, Spike looked up again at the slayer who had a mix of fear and concern in her wide eyes. His answer echoed throughout the crypt as the rain came pouring down.
"I can breath."
Author: KattGoddess
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters (I just wish I do (Spike, at least))The characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
Rating: Pg-13
Spoilers: none
Fighting with Spike was normal for Buffy. But fighting with Spike by her side, helping her was anything but normal. And to add to it, she was grateful that he was there, for this particular demon was huge, and Buffy knew, but would never admit it, that she couldn't fight it alone. Instead of trying to figure out why Spike was helping her and not killing her, Buffy turned her attention to the demon she was fighting.
"Hey! Over here!" she yelled, successfully distracting it from Spike.
The large demon sauntered over to her, forgetting all about the vampire behind it. Buffy jump-kicked and caught it square in the nose with her right foot. Apparently, it didn't like that because it bellowed in pain and charged at Buffy, seething. Right before it attacked, she aimed and kicked it between the legs, testing a theory. It doubled over in pain and fell to the ground. She looked up to see Spike, with a pained expression, and grinned.
"I wanted to know if it was male or female. I'm gonna take a wild guess and say it's male," she explained.
"That was definitely not nice, pet. Just for the record, remember I'm male, ok, luv?" Spike asked.
By now the demon had recovered and was getting up. He now ran for Buffy again, seeing red. He punched and kicked until he decided to give that tactic up, picked her up, and threw her across the cemetery where she landed on a tombstone.
"That was a very bad idea, mate," Spike stated.
He swung around the battle-ax his sire had given him on one of his birth (death?) days, and watched as the head of the demon rolled to the ground. Wiping the blood off the ax with his hands, cutting himself in the process, he walked over to where Buffy had landed. With the demon blood, and his own, on his hands, he picked the unconscious slayer up by the waist, careful but not successfully avoiding the nasty cut down her side where she had landed, and hoisted her over his shoulder. Not noticing that his blood, Buffy's blood, and the demon's blue blood had mingled and mixed together to form a purplish color on his hands and her blouse, Spike walked the short distance to his crypt.
He kicked the metal door open, the sound making Buffy stir but not waken. Spike laid her down on the coffin cover that he often did his nails on. He walked over to the door and slammed it shut. This time the noise made Buffy jump up, look around, and glare at the peroxide-bleached blond vampire looking at her with an amused glint in his icey-blue eyes.
"What the hell was that for?" she demanded, getting up.
"What, you expected prince charming to wake you up with a kiss, luv?" Spike asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Buffy shuddered at the thought, and a small breezed blew through making her shiver. She looked down and found the side of her ivory blouse slashed.
"Dammit, this was my favorite shirt!" she complained. She looked up at an amused Spike and asked,
"You wouldn't happen to have an extra shirt or anything, would you?"
He gestured to a dresser behind her.
"Help yourself."
Buffy opened the top drawer, and instead of finding a shirt of any kind, she was staring at six pairs of silky black boxers.
"Charming," she commented, feeling herself blush.
"Behind her, she heard Spike chuckle. Quickly closing the drawer, opening the second, Buffy pulled out a red knit sweater. She looked over her shoulder, told Spike to turn around, and proceeded to take off her blouse and slip on the too large sweater. Little did she know that Spike was watching her in an unused mirror.
As the sweater was over her face, concealing her features, Buffy inhaled the scent that reeked Spike: the mix of cigarette smoke, the acrid scent of blood, and Spike's own unique odor.
Looking her self over, Buffy thought to herself, this is a major fashion no-no! I look like Christmas lights.
And indeed she did, with her forest green jeans and Spike's red sweater. Listening to the coming storm, Buffy looked up at Spike with her emerald green eyes.
"Just so I don't look like a Christmas tree, and seeing as I won't be leaving until the storm passes," she turned around, plucked a piece of clothing out of Spike's drawer, "I'm gonna borrow these," she declared, holding up a pair of boxers. Spike's eyes widened briefly before he burst out laughing. He laughed until his side ached and was coughing. The he looked up at Buffy with pure terror as he kept on coughing. Dropping the boxers, she went over to the hunched over figure that was panting.
"Spike?"
Buffy's question rang out as a shock of lightening filled the sky followed by a clap of thunder.
Wheezing, Spike looked up again at the slayer who had a mix of fear and concern in her wide eyes. His answer echoed throughout the crypt as the rain came pouring down.
"I can breath."