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Reality is Overrated.
Author : Caitlin
Rating : NC-17 in later parts
Characters : Buffy/Spike
Setting : Post-Post-The Gift. Buffy's back, all is right in the world, etc.
Feedback : To Caitlin@teenagewildlife.com if you like it. Trying something new after not writing it ages. So feedback would be appreciated Thanks :)
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"Moans to Rocky,"
Sounded easy enough. At the top of my crumpled bit of paper with the daisies I'd doodled in each corner and the stars lining the sides I wrote MOANS and at the bottom, ROCKY. Then I tried to fit things together.
MOANS
LOANS
LOINS
LOONS
BOONS
BOOKS
ROOKS
ROCKS
ROCKY
It took only a few moments.
"How many?" Drawled Spike.
"Nine,"
He smirked, "Seven,"
He turned round his own bit of paper, sans doodles, with his scruffy scrawl in the centre, sharp and stretched where my own handwriting seemed bouncier.
MOANS
LOANS
LOONS
LOOKS
ROOKS
ROCKS
ROCKY
"Okay, okay," I put my hands up in mock defence, "You win. Again,"
The bed creaked as he leaned over onto his back, hands under his head and stared at the ceiling. We'd been playing word games and sparring on and off for the past few hours. The latest one was a game Spike and Angel, when he was soulless obviously, had apparently used to play on cargo ships between countries when they had to travel in storage to avoid the light. I got the feeling that Angelus had won a lot because Spike really loved to rub it in when he won. Which was a lot. So far I'd contemplated staking him with the pencil in my hand, oh about a million times. Especially when he started doing that idiotic thing where he stretches out after a win, clasping his hands and flexing his muscles saying stuff like "Oh I'm good, I'm bloody amazing." Can you say loves to brag?
I'd thought about rising the hanging incident again because I was curious as to why Spike freaked, but it didn't seem like the right time. He wasn't jittery anymore and I didn't want him to be again. It's too weird; Spike + jitters = A freaked Buffy.
Spike had rifled through every drawer and cupboard - Along with the drawing kit I found earlier there were cosmetic things - hairbrushes and perfume bottles, hand held mirrors and scissors as well as clothes which were definitely not the latest Gap fashion. Spike mumbled something about them being from the early nineteen hundred so I took his word.
Took Spike, William the Bloody's word.
Sorry, just struck me as funny.
Okay so what have we got? An abandoned house with stuff in it from early in the last century - not overly weird on the Sunnydale scale. But the weirdest thing about it is that all the stuff looked to be in good condition, whereas when we'd looked in the dark everything had been moth eaten and had dust bunny envy. Everything looked, as Spike had put it, "Brand Spanking New." And I had to admit if a Spike wasn't here then I would definitely be trying on those silk dresses which were mint condition. I'd have to ask the Ghost what her secret was, my cute baby blue cardigan which I only bought a month ago has already started to bobble. As of yet, Maria hadn't made a return.
"So," Spike sniffed in that weird way of his where he sucks his jaws in at the same time. I think I've seen dogs do that, "What now?"
I shrugged and leant forward propping myself up with my elbows, "I dunno. Just not more games okay?"
He chuckled, "What's wrong Slayer, defeat getting to you?"
"No boredom," I corrected, "This kind of thing loses it's appeal after the first *hundred* times,"
"S'better then your suggestion," He grunted, beginning to pluck at the tassels at the end of the silk sheets.
"I'll have you know that eye spy is a great game," He looked at me, "For six years olds, " I finished meekly to Spike's low grumble of a chuckle.
Low grumble? What the hell has happened to me? Spike's laugh used to be annoying, sharp and like somebody had scraped their fingernails down a black board. It's not that I don't like him, I don't know what I would have done without him the last few months, but nothing more. Maybe, maybe I'm getting appreciation mixed up with something else.
Okay I admit it, I like being with him. We're good for eachother but I'm not the type of girl who needs a boyfriend to make herself feel whole.
I'm just tired of being alone.
Hang on wait did I say that?
Hmmm. Must be the house.
"-Earth to Slayer?"
"Huh?" Oh damn, how long was I out of it for?
"I said you wanna try and get some sleep, looking a bit worse for wear pet,"
"Thanks," I said wryly and he gave me a thin smile, but the concern in his eyes was so endearing I let it go.
He shrugged, looking a bit embarrassed (If vamps could blush..) "I mean no offence- I mean you still look bloody gorgeous as well," (More hypothetical blushing, ahh bless) "-But you know- Well what I was saying was-"
"Spike-" Had to cut him off, not that the rambling wasn't cute, but enough's enough, "Don't worry about it. I don't think I'm gonna go to sleep though, Maria's got to come back eventually and I want to be here when she does," At that precise moment my stomach protested it's emptiness with a growl to rival Spike's own. It was my turn to blush but Spike just grinned, "Of course I wouldn't say no to some food,"
Hey presto and the door is swinging open. Spike scowled at me, top lip curving, "How come it always works for you?" He said then tilted his head to the side, "Oh I get it, we've got a bloody dyke for a host 'aven't we? Well that's just grand, all my manly charms are now useless,"
"When were they ever *useful*? No hang on what manly charms?" I asked with a raise of my eyebrows, making my way to the door.
He smirked, "Just face it Slayer, I'm irresistible to the opposite sex, they can't keep their hands off me,"
"Oh yeah," I agreed sarcastically, "You're a regular babe magnet,"
He gave a snort, "S'not like the blokes are hanging off your arms lately Slayer,"
Ouch. Defensive much? I was kidding.
"What would you know?" My ice lined comeback which somehow just made me sound teenagery.
"Look let's not argue, let's just see what the dyke's got in store downstairs, see if we can find a way out,"
"Fine," I said sulkily following him out the door. How come he gets to be the mature one? That should be me.
Oh yeah gotta be the house.
Okay now that was definitely not here before.
The hallways were covered in candles and were painted a deep dark red - looking antique and expensive. Spike looked at me and I shrugged, "Maybe she likes to decorate?"
"Yeah," Spike said, "A regular Laurence Llewelyn Bowen,"
I frowned, who with that what with the where?
He shook his head, "Nevermind," He muttered.
Fine I won't. Buffy couldn't possibly understand. Just because I don't spend half my life, sorry un-life, in front of the television doesn't mean you have to patronise me. I could stake your ass buster.
Oh darn I meant to say that out loud and now the moment has passed. Dammit.
Following Spike down the stairs I suddenly had an urge just to push him, Spike sprawling head first. Oh God, it's too much.
"Do you always just start giggling like a school girl for no particular bloody reason?" He turned and asked, eyebrows low.
"What can I say?" I told him, "Your face is just a walking joke to me,"
He pulled a face then turned again, "Must be that time of the month. Great a PMT Slayer, just what I don't need,"
I shook my head in disgust, "Just because someone doesn't like you Spike doesn't mean it's automatically - wow....."
Okay scrap she likes to decorate, this ghost is the DIY queen. Maybe she could come have a look at my room. I'm really still not happy with the paint job. Better still she should go to Spike's place, she'd probably drop dead at - no wait already a check on that account.
On our right is some kind of living area and on the left a dining area. Fit for a queen let me tell you. We're talking candles, silver dishes, gold frames, glassware, velvet couches, velvet curtains, hell everything's just velvet. Got to admit the girl's got taste and wow is that a real Faberge?
What? So sue me my mother was into art.
Well it's not. Just for the record, Spike said early nineteen hundred so it's after her time.
So what do I know about this ghost so far. Name's Maria. Doesn't like to be disobeyed. She's a dominating kind of gal. Like's rope and pushing unsuspecting persons over window edges. Lost a sister. Likes to decorate. Well then I just start mixing oranges with browns and I'm sure she'll let us right out. Not.
What is that? Spikes in the dining room and is lifting up the silver platters one by one. Spike with the touching. He can't just look, always gotta touch. Never picked him as a touchy-feely kind of guy. No hang on, incident with troll coming shining back to me.
Oh double wow. Next time I am asking for a Porsche 911. Underneath the dishes was, and it seems I was right the first time, a banquet fit for the queen. Chicken, vegetables, hours d'ouevres and a bazillion other things I've never seen before but sure look and smell yummy.
Right then time to dig in. Spike sat sulkily across from me at the table as I pretty much ate like a pig.
"You'd a think she could have cooked me up some blood whilst she was at. Stupid bitch fancies you, that's what it is, wants to starve old Spike so she can have you to herself,"
"Well," I said through mouthfuls of some chicken and a sauce as I reached for a glass of red wine, "If she carries on cooking like this you've got no protests from me,"
Gulp and Oh shit, mega shit. We're talking elephant shit here and yes I'm allowed to be crude because hello I just swallowed blood. I sprayed the liquid most ladylikely across the table, wiping furiously at my mouth.
Spike raised an eyebrow, "Well someone can't hold their alcohol," He remarked.
"Not," I gasped, "Alcohol," and I reached for the jug of water whilst thrusting the wine glass full of blood a him, "Blood,"
"Way-bloody-hey!" Spike exclaimed guzzling the liquid down eagerly and I wasn't sure what was weirder, red wine turning to blood in front of my eyes or Spike saying Way-bloody-hey.
An hour or so later and I had pretty much cleared Maria out and had made the mental note to ask her the recipe for that chocolate creme brouille thingy. Spike had sampled just about every type of blood there was and I was surprised to discover from him that not all blood tastes the same. I'm type AB apparently that's the Chartreuse of the blood world - good stuff. I was momentarily flattered before I remembered - euww.
"Hey Buffy you got a little something-" Spike was scrutinising my face from his position slumped in his chair and pointing at the side of his mouth. Oh shit, I found the culprit - a bit of chocolate sauce at the side of my lip and quickly wiped it away. I'd have been embarrassed if it wasn't for the fact that Spike had already lowered the tone with a blood moustache. He had it for five minutes before I couldn't stand it anymore and gave into fits of laughter.
"Well then she's fed us, made the place up all nice, what's the deal?" Spike said, echoing my own thoughts. This is not typical ghost behaviour, usually they have more of a niche for killing you or scaring you shitless, not making you comfortable. Spike was still talking, " I mean I've heard the saying kill you with kindness but this is bloody ridiculous, we got ourselves the Martha sodding Stewart of the ghost world,"
"Maybe it's like that story," I suggested, "You know Hansel and Gretel? The witch feeds them up so that they're nice and plump and tasty,"
"Yeah," Spike said, "But I didn't think ghosts ate,"
I shook my head, "Maybe she needs us for something else then, I don't know," I sighed, "Well until we find out I say we lean back and enjoy it. I haven't had a meal like that since....."
I trailed off. I was going to say since my mom was alive but it's still hard to say her name. Spike always gets it anyway and just nods.
"So," He said patting his stomach, "What next? She gonna get the entertainment in or what? I'm still waiting for my Britney love," He called out as if to the ghost and I smiled.
"I don't know about you but I could really use a nice warm bath,"
Oh I am too good. Running water sound coming from upstairs. Spike shook his head, "I was bloody right. I think our ghost's got the hots for you love,"
"What's wrong Spike?" I asked sweetly, "Upset that there's another person with resistance to your "manly charms"?'
He gave a smirk, "Quite the contrary pet. I just figured a way to get us out of here. The way I see it - you get your kit off for her and we're out of here in no time,"
I raised an eyebrow, pushing back a smile, "And give you a free show? I don't think so buster,"
He snorted.
"Okay here's the plan," I told the pouting Spike, "I'll go upstairs and investigate, and you know maybe have a bath or something," I said with a sigh just to piss Spike off who I knew was just as grubby as me, "You stay down here and have another look around. I'll give you a shout if I find anything,"
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," He reached for a half empty glass of blood and began swirling the liquid around, "Shoulda known you'd get in the tub first,"
"You know what they say Spike, ladies first,"
He gave me a pointed look, "Since when were you a lady?" And for some reason I winked.
Hello did you hear me? I winked at Spike. And enjoyed it. And I enjoyed the look he gave me even more, that little half smile he gets and the sparkle in his blue eyes. Makes me feel like anything's possible.
Oh God, what did I just say?
This damn house was doing something to me. We were in a possibly life threatening situation and all I could think about is how me and Spike are going to pass the time and the best way to piss him off.
That's it. I'm finding a way out as soon as possible before I lose all my inhibitions.
And do something I might regret.
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