Title: Love, And Its Effects On The Nature of Man and Beast
Author/s: Celeste and Debbie (Peroxide Pest and Nocturne Wytche)
Rating: PG-R
Disclaimer: Not ours, we're just borrowing for the sake of borrowing. Joss can blame our muses…
Feedback: (yes!) keviesprincess@netscape.net (Celeste) and/or celtskye@aol.com (Debbie)
Genre: Action/Romance
Pairing: S/B, X/A, W/T
Summary: Drusilla creates a foe almost as formidable as Spike himself. What does he want? A Slayer.
Notes: Sequel to Imitor Vita Pro Amor. But wait, it's not bad! We hope. Er…we'll see, I suppose.
In order to fully understand this fic, you may want to go back and read its prequel, Imitor Vita Pro Amor. It explains why there's so much fluff in the beggining of LAIEOTNOMAB, since fluff was zero to nill in Imitor, we wanted to please our readers with a lil OD on sap, which never hurt anyone. Fear not, trouble looms and a real plot is somewhere in this story come chapter 5 LOL :) Thanks!
Chapter One: Schoolwork
"What rhymes with surmise?" Buffy asked conversationally, pausing from writing in her notepad as she sat atop a gravestone. She chewed on the eraser of her pencil thoughtfully.
Spike grunted and ducked a punch from the vampire he was fighting, not three feet away from where the Slayer sat. "Surmise?" He stopped mid lunge to think about it, giving his newly risen opponent time to regain his equilibrium and gear up for another attack. "Your thighs," He finally stated, grinning at her devilishly in the moonlight. He grabbed the fledgling's arm and snapped the bone halfway between the wrist and the elbow when it tried to take another swipe at him. The vamp howled in protest.
Buffy rolled her eyes at his comment. It figured that would be the first thing that came to mind. "Pig," she insulted, though there was no real malice behind it.
"How about, French fries?"
"I'm not hungry."
"No you bint, in rhymes."
"Who the hell uses French fries in poetry?" she shot back.
"Well you could have been more specific, pet," he shrugged, kicking the vamp on the side of the head, causing it to whirl backwards into the ground.
"Like you didn't know I have that assignment to turn in on Monday. You're the reason I haven't had time to do it until now. So stop playing around and help me out."
"Flies?"
"Doesn't fit the mood of the poem."
He snapped the fledgling's spine with his hands and grinned at the crack. "Cries," he suggested helpfully, hearing the whimpers of the broken vampire lying at his feet.
"Would you hurry up and make with the vacuum dust so we can move on? I really need to finish this poem."
"What kind of stupid major grade is poetry anyway? I mean it's not like they can bloody well grade it objectively. They either get it or they don't. Or they like it or they don't. It's not quite fair to grade it on their own personal rubric if you ask me," Spike mused, crushing the fingers of his victim beneath his boot as he patted his duster, looking for his stake. He didn't feel it. "Er, seems I'm a bit short tonight pet, must have lost it in the scuffle." He smiled charmingly at her. "Can I borrow?"
She sighed and pulled a stake from the waistband of her pants, tossing it at him before crossing out the last line of her blasted poem. He caught it and grinned his thanks, jumping off the vamp's back and staking it neatly. It exploded underneath him, and he swiped a bit of dust from the front of his jacket, the smile never leaving his face. "Dies."
"That's great!" she responded. "It rhymes and it fits." The Slayer paused. "Gee, you'd think I'd have been able to come up with that on my own."
"Yeah, you'd think," Spike teased back. She didn't take offense to the remark and simply jotted down a note to herself on the side of her paper, which said to come up with a line with the right amount of syllables, ending with the word 'dies'. "So, now what?" he asked, still worked up from his little tussle. If it could be considered that, even. He needed something else to kill.
"Well, we could do a sweep by the Bronze, and then head to the Magic Shop."
"Sounds like a plan. Been weeks since I've had a decent plate of hot wings, a beer, and a dance with my best girl." He offered his hand to her, which she took without hesitation.
After helping her off of the tombstone and giving him a quick peck on the lips, she took one last perusal of her night's poetry homework and shut the yellow notepad to take a break from the assignment. Spike motioned her ahead of him, overdoing the gallantry in the action, as was his custom. She shook her head at him but still smiled, accepting his offer and striding out before him. He was at her side shortly after, and they walked together in silence. It was a comfortable silence; something that had come naturally for both vampire and slayer as things progressed from the three stages of sworn enemies, friends, and lovers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dawn Summers danced wildly to the music in the club, smiling and giggling over the fact that it was Friday and school was gone for the weekend. She looked over at Tara and grinned.
Tara smiled back at the young teen, enjoying the craziness herself.
Willow, Anya and Xander were also dancing like maniacs amongst the crowd, relaxed after a particularly good three weeks of non-apocalyptic action and bent on having a good time while it lasted. Because everyone knew that the good times in Sunnydale never really lasted.
Dawn's eyes traced the club and her smile brightened upon seeing Spike and Buffy finally joining them after patrol and slayage. She waved in their direction and they waved back at her, both with looks of relief on their faces seeing the girl safe and having fun. Lots of fun. To make up for her almost getting the life sucked out of her and stuff.
For the first time in about two weeks, things were peaceful in Sunnydale. As peaceful as a hellmouth could possibly get, in any case. Dawn felt like a normal teenage girl, too. Well, as normal as a girl whose sister slew vampires and dated one could be. Not to mention her own occasional power headaches from the mystical energy that made her...well her.
She pushed aside bad thoughts, smiling at the thought of Spike. The platinum blonde vamp that adored her was no more than fifty feet from away from her. He never let his Lil Bit (as he preferred to call her) out of his sight when he could help it. He was for all means and purposes, her surrogate father. Except he was way cooler. And cuter.
Especially now that he was dating Buffy. Well, seeing her. Okay, kissing her at the least.
The two had been caught smooching at this very spot about two weeks ago, the day after saving Dawn's life, and she couldn't have been happier for the two. Things were progressing slowly between them. At least in front of her, and the Scoobies. She was quite sure there was major kissage while they patrolled at night. She was also pretty sure Giles knew nothing of it. Yet. From the looks of it now the two were keeping it quiet, breaking everyone into the idea slowly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not far from the dance floor, sitting at a table was the aforementioned couple, eyes darting from each other to the precious little girl on the floor dancing with her friends.
A waitress came by, dropping a beer and Buffalo wings near Spike and a coke near Buffy. "Anything else I can get you two?"
"No thanks," Buffy smiled shortly.
The waitress eyed Spike admiringly. "No problem..." she responded with a sickeningly sweet, slightly suggestive tone.
Buffy's smile turned into a look of annoyance. She'd hadn't been with Spike long enough to have had this kind of experience with him yet. But instantly, she did know that she wanted to smack the waitress around 'til the skank couldn't see straight. Her smile straightened into a line. "Be careful, he bites," she warned the other woman.
The waitress jumped, her gaze on Spike broken. "Huh... oh..." she blushed, scurrying off.
Spike turned his head to the slayer with a bright, cocky smile and raised brows. He whistled. "Pet, are your eyes turning green?"
Buffy gave him a get-real look, though she felt her skin burn hot with the truth of the matter. "Of course not."
Spike chuckled, feeling truly warmed by her envy. It was just so damned cute. "Don't worry, luv..."
"Worried? Who's worried?" Buffy fidgeted with her straw.
Spike never felt so good in his whole life. He shook his head, watching her with pure affection. "Maybe you should write a poem about green eyes, luv."
"Oh, would you stop? I'm not jealous," she huffed stubbornly.
"Oh?" Spike cocked his head to the side. "What if I tell you she's lookin' at me right now?" he asked smoothly. He always had enjoyed baiting his girl. This would be fun. In the end she'd enjoy the outcome, anyway.
Buffy nearly choked at his suggestion as she sipped her soda. Her eyes turned to the bar, looking for the waitress. Sure enough, the little twit was staring at her man from across the club. "Wait'll she gets a load of your other face." Buffy snorted, trying to make light of the pang she got in her chest at the thought of any other woman touching him. She went back to her soda.
Spike knew it was all in good fun so he leaned over, his hands slipping across her shoulder to the nape of her neck. "Hmm...think she can handle the wrinklies?" he morphed into his game face, nose to nose with the Slayer.
Buffy turned to him and shrugged nonchalantly starring at his game face. "It's actually an improvement."
Spike shook off his visage with a deep laugh. He nipped at her neck playfully with blunt teeth. "What say we really give her something to look at?" he implied wickedly, his voice hoarse with suggestion. He rubbed his cool nose along her jugular and let out a tiny purr, just to push her over the edge.
He'd finally learn to control the annoying noise shortly after they'd begun the major kissing sessions, and he loved teasing her. He could always feel her heart rate increase and lil goose bumps pop up on her arms when he purred. So anything that could get that sort of reaction from her was good, in his book.
She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, feeling his lips buried into her neck, his hand brushing back her hair. "Spike…honey… the others? "
He brushed his lips up to ear lobe, teasing it with little nips of his teeth. "Come off it, luv. They know..."
"But…comfortable... with... it... yet?" she was sinking and giving in to his whims rapidly.
"Hmm, but you smell sooo good pet..." he licked her neck. "Taste good too."
Buffy's heart hammered so loudly, even she heard it. She gasped delightedly at the tingling trail his kisses left behind, enjoying his ministrations far too much for the public eye. She pulled away a bit and gripped his face. "You're a very wicked man..." she groaned, diving into his lips.
Spike's hands snaked into her hair and his smug smile disappeared as her lips went wild over his. In fact, he lost all thought except for the pleasure of kissing her. He deepened the kiss, losing all concept of where they were and what they were doing. All that existed was her. He groaned terribly loud and she gasped.
"Spike!" she chuckled, turning red. She knew people were staring.
"Sorry," he whispered, kissing her again.
She opened her eyes to make sure his were shut tightly, and spied a look over at the bar.
She felt an immense boost of womanly self-satisfaction at the look of envious horror on the waitress's face. *Hmph so there... bitch,* she thought to herself, before turning back to Spike. Her eyes returned to him and she jumped a little, seeing him staring straight at her.
"Hmm...luv...eyes may not be so green no more, but your face is quite flushed," he teased huskily, with a wink.
She socked him in the jaw. "Monster."
"Bitch," he spat back.
Then they returned to each other's arms quickly, jumping into another heated kiss.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Xander groaned. "Ya know I like the guy and all, but have they ever heard the term 'get a room'?"
"Oh, you mean to have sex?" Anya asked. "Why do they need one if we..."
"Ahn..." Xander silenced her with a hand.
Dawn smirked and giggled delightedly. "I think it's cute."
"It's sweet," Tara agreed, leaning her head on Willow.
"Well, at least its not the Poofter," Xander shrugged. "Still... takes a lil getting used to..."
"Well…yeah… but still cute," Willow argued lamely, grinning with thoughts of happy Buffy.
"He's good for her," Tara agreed, watching with a small, flitting grin.
Dawn's eyes followed her sister, her face covered in what Spike called the "Cheshire smirk." "The smooches are nothing compared to the things I've seen and heard, Xander," she teased.
"What?" Xander stopped dancing.
"Relax, 'm kidding!" Dawn relished in the look of shock on Xander's face.
"Okay, one thing at a time here! I'm about to go on overload. I still have nightmares of Spike and the Buffy-bot." Xander put a hand to his head. "Kissing and hugging...okay, holding hands, I can deal... but Dawnie, don't cross into the world of bondage and adult novelty toys yet... please..."
"Gross much?" Dawn stuck her tongue out distastefully. "They fell asleep together on the couch, that's all. Major cuteness points."
"And also major boyfriend points when he didn't wake up as the dust you push under the rug," Anya added.
"Wonder when they'll tell Giles," Willow mentioned, eyes wide when Buffy socked Spike in the jaw and then kissed the spot she'd pounded when he growled.
"Hopefully before he catches them in a groping contest, like we did two weeks ago," Xander teased.
Dawn rolled her eyes. "And you say Anya's the sex-fiend."
He turned to Dawn, he jaw dropping in abject horror. "I don't ever wanna hear that dirty word come outta your mouth again, young lady!" Xander shook his finger sternly at her, trying his best to look serious. It didn't work so well as he cracked a grin when Dawn gave him that famous, Summers's "piss-off" look.
"Hey, Pigeon..." Spike snuck up behind Dawn, yanking on her long locks gently.
Dawn spun and socked him in the chest with a big grin. "Spike..."
Spike gasped with exaggeration, clutching his stomach. "Big sis been teaching you a thing or two?"
"Yeah," Dawn chuckled.
"No wonder it didn't hurt," he snorted, straightening.
Buffy whacked him in the head.
"Bloody hell!!" Spike growled.
Buffy smirked with a teasing smile. "Sounded painful to me."
"Speaking of pain, how went the slayage?" Willow asked.
"Another slow night. Got some school work done while Spike did all the actual work." She clung to his arm in thanks.
"Oh good," Willow smiled. "I'm so glad you're back in school."
"Leaping for joy here too," Buffy joked. "Trying to get this stupid poem done for poetry..."
"Well, why doesn't Spike help you? You used to be a poet weren't you?" Dawn asked.
"Bollocks...Zip it, lil bint..." Spike placed a finger to her lips.
"That's right...William...the bloody..." Buffy fought a giggle building... "Bloody awful poet," she said in a lame British accent.
"Ah… right then laugh at the poor vampire. He has no feelings, rip him to shreds, that's right. Sod off," Spike huffed, yanking his arm free. He stormed to the back, towards the bar.
"Whoops..." Dawn frowned. "Think we hurt his feelings."
"Poor guy..." Tara pouted.
Buffy frowned. "Forgot how sensitive he is about his William side..."
"How did you know... never mind... it's like the whole bondage issue, so don't wanna know..." Xander pulled Anya away from the group as a ballad played in the club.
Buffy shook off her confusion with Xander. "Better go make nice with the big bad vamp."
"Tell him 'm sorry too," Dawn frowned deeper, feeling guilty.
"C'mon Dawnie, lets go do the girl thing and get to the bathroom together," Tara wrapped her arm around her shoulder. "Fix the make-up and stuff."
"Cool," Dawn smiled, looking back as she walked away.
Buffy approached him with caution. He looked broody, leaning against the bar, waiting for a drink from the bartender. His back was turned to her, so she slipped up to him and wrapped her arms around him from behind. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she placed a peace offering kiss on his neck. "Sorry, baby..." she whispered, sounding appropriately contrite.
He didn't move in response, just snorted.
"I didn't mean to embarrass you, Spike. I forgot how sensitive you are about your past as William..." she apologized, sincerely.
"Sensitive?" he huffed. "I'm not sensitive, Slayer."
"Oh right, Mr. Non-sensitive, Buffy I love you, I exist for you guy..." she drawled, tightening her hold on him, and doing a poor imitation of his voice. "I'm sorry, Spike. I really am."
He melted a little, never able stay mad at her for long. "Well...damn it Slayer, William was a bloody wanker..."
"No he wasn't, he's still a part of you." she disagreed. "I bet you're not as bad at the poetry as you said you were, either. Who helped me with the poem tonight, huh?"
"Hell, all I did was find a word that rhymed with 'surmise' for you..." he responded, turning to the side so he could see her.
"So?" She hugged him, tighter. "I bet you just weren't inspired enough. How 'bout I inspire you, huh? Betcha I'll have you spouting stanza after stanza with the right motivation," she teased, kissing his ear, his cheek, the side of his lips.
He groaned. "That's not playing fair. I'm supposed to be mad at you, and you're supposed to grovel."
"Who says I'm not groveling now?" she asked indignantly, lips still brushing the skin along the juncture of his jaw and throat.
"Well for one thing, you haven't done that thing with your tongue and the…ahh…that's it…" he mumbled, feeling her switch to exactly what he was thinking. "Bloody hell, pet…" he breathed.
"So, you forgive me?" she asked, biting the side of his neck playfully.
"Maybe."
Her eyes sparkled. His tone said that he'd forgiven her a while ago, but he just wanted an excuse for her to be nuzzle-Buffy. She could deal with that. "Maybe?" she repeated. She placed a series of soft kisses along his jaw. "How about now?"
"Nope."
She nibbled his earlobe. "Now?"
"Getting closer."
She turned his face towards her and kissed him soundly. "Now?"
He seemed to contemplate it a second, and then sighed. "Only because you know my weaknesses," he proclaimed melodramatically, diving in to steal another quick kiss. Sure, he'd been annoyed when she'd made fun of his past in front of everyone, but seeing this girl, kissing him, touching him, wanting HIM, he just couldn't find the strength to be angry. It was too much of a miracle that she felt the desire to spend her time with the likes of him and he didn't want to waste potential moments fighting over stupid things like his all too mortal insecurities. Sighing, he pulled her into his lap and buried his face into her hair. "You dirty little temptress."
"That's me. Buffy the temptress."
He growled low in his throat. "Naughty."
"Mmm hmmm," she sighed, loving the sounds he could make, and how each of them made her feel. That sound made her feel absolutely delicious. He further proved the point by nipping at her throat with his blunt teeth. She giggled and leaned into him. "So all is forgiven?"
"Oh no. I punish you tonight. Lots," he warned, wickedly.
"Promise?"
"Swear it on Poofy's hair gel," he vowed, kissing the place he'd seconds ago bit. "Though I'm tempted to take you right here, Slayer. Taste bloody great," he murmured, breath cool against her skin.
"Keep that up Blondie, and we'll be out of here suspiciously quick, and you KNOW Anya will have something to say about that."
"Oh like they don't already know."
"I think Xander's been trying not to think about it. Having it voiced might destroy his fragile façade," she responded, lightly.
"However his reaction is, can't be as bad as the Watcher's."
Buffy frowned a bit at that. "Yeah…think we should tell Giles soon?"
Spike looked at her incredulously. "I thought we agreed to after a month."
"That was only in case things weren't working out smoothly," she reminded him. "And they ARE working out, very well. REALLY well."
He turned sly. "Oh really? How well?"
She noticed the look on his face, and went on without missing a beat. "How well?" She tossed her hair in the most coquettish manner possible, looking temptingly innocent and thoughtful as she pondered the answer to his question. "Well enough that I can't keep my naughty hands off of you," she answered, diving in to capturing his lower lip in between hers.
He pulled back to look at her, wicked gleam in his eye. "Yeah? That it, then?"
"I can't stop thinking about you," she added, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers. "Can't imagine not being with you."
"I'd say that's working out well," he responded, squeezing her hand tenderly. "So you want to tell him, then?"
She placed his hand across her stomach and began to play idly with his fingers. "What do you think he'll say?"
"He might go for the liquor cabinet again," Spike smirked.
She swatted him gently. "That's not allaying my fears."
"Sorry, pet. Naughty me, now."
"You don't REALLY think he'd flip, do you?"
"He might do that thing where he blinks a lot and then cleans his glasses…" Spike suggested.
"You don't think he'll give me the, "Bad Buffy, Bad" lecture, do you?"
"No… Rupert will probably just stake me," Spike responded. "No lecture."
"He would not. Stake you."
"I would, if some bloke were sniffin' round my daughter like that…" he responded honestly.
"So I should warn Dawn about bringing home boys for you to meet?"
He was oddly touched by her seemingly offhanded remark. That's what he was now, then? Dawn's father figure? He belatedly wondered if he should be worried that the male influence of his girl's adolescent life was a soulless vampire. Then he realized that he'd thought himself into some sort of paradox and evacuated the entire thing from his mind. "She's not bringing boys home until she's bloody well 30," he stated, air of authority about him over the matter.
Buffy snickered. "Don't think Dawnie would agree with you on that one."
"Well, I'm puttin' my foot down. I know what the nasty lil buggers think about when they meet a girl. I used to do it all the time myself, thinkin' 'bout you. Far as I'm concerned, they don't touch her with one grubby paw."
"Putting your foot down?" she snorted. "All she'd have to do is give you those puppy eyes and you'd be a big puddle of Spike on the floor."
He turned indignant. "Would not! I'm impervious. It's a vampire superpower."
"Which you apparently missed out on. You know she's got you wrapped around her little finger."
He pouted. "Does not."
"How about last week?"
"What do you mean last week?"
"When you let her eat ice cream for breakfast."
"Well, you were sleepin'… an' we were out of eggs. She told me Joyce let her do it every now and again."
"Spike puddle," she murmured playfully in his ear.
He couldn't help but agree with her after turning over the events of last week in his mind. "Okay, yeah. I'm a bloody Nancy boy," he sighed.
"Which I love," she added, helpfully.
"Well, at least I get THAT consolation prize…" he started.
She slugged him in the shoulder lightly. "Consolation prize?"
"Grand prize," he corrected. "Best bloody prize of all time. Can't help but feel like I ripped someone off when I got it sort of prize."
She nodded and kissed him. "Better."
He pulled her in for a deeper kiss with a little growl, which she found sexy in boundless ways. However, three seconds in and she pulled back abruptly, her senses tingling. He sighed and they shared a look. "Vampire," they muttered in unison, spinning in their seat to face the other direction.
"Three guesses as to which one of our lucky Bronzers it is," Buffy wagered.
"Only need one," he responded, nodding over towards the door, where a badly dressed scrawny boy vamp of a thing led an obviously drunk chitty outside. "That one SMELLS like he's bloody been dead for 5 or 6 years," he muttered, wrinkling his nose.
"Lucky for me you discovered the finer points of undead hygiene," she drawled in response, getting up off his lap.
Spike growled at the empty feeling he got whenever he was out of contact with her, annoyed at the vamp for ruining the moment. "I say we torture 'im."
She took his hand and led him out the door. "Takes too long," she replied, as if she'd seriously considered his proposal. "And I want to get back to where we were as soon as possible."
"Like the way you think," he rumbled seductively.
"Spike, stop," she warned him. "I need to be strong kneed slayer to fight. No melty knees."
He smirked, eyes sparking with life in the dull light of the club. He knew exactly what those sounds could do to her when used correctly. He cleared his throat to make his voice normal. "Right then. Melty knees later?"
She nodded, smiling dreamily. "Later."
"Right. Let's finish this quick…" he stated, reaching into his duster pocket. He sighed when he remembered that he no longer smoked, and came up, rather disappointingly, with a package of gum instead. He pulled one from the val-u pack (though he still wondered why 18 sticks constituted as a steal) and popped a stick into his mouth. Yeah, the big bad gum chewer he was. He sighed and followed Buffy down the alley until they rounded the corner, coming up, as usual, to the darkest, dankest area behind the club one could possibly find. And there was smelly vamp boy, doing what looked like necking to the untrained eye. Spike could smell the blood a mile away.
"You want the first zinger?" Buffy asked, peering over at her prey.
He shrugged. "Why not?" Spike grinned and cleared his throat. "Nothin' more disgustin' than a messy eater, you know."
The vamp's head shot up, and sure enough, the front of his mouth and shirt were covered in blood. Spike made a face. Sires just weren't training their childer like they used to. He tsk tsked out loud. "In the presence of ladies, no doubt. Wipe your mouth, Messy."
The vampire looked completely surprised. "What?"
"You heard me. Respect your elders. Have a little dignity. Clean yourself up."
The fledgling, surprised, but knowing enough about older, stronger vampires (and this one SMELLED strong) to listen to them. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket. "Erm…"
Spike ignored him. "Right then. You want, or do you want me to take him?"
Buffy looked thoughtful. "Well, you did all the slayage earlier. Why not let me have a go?"
His eyebrows quirked. "New turn of phrase?"
"I only start talking like the vampires I constantly hang out with," she drawled in her defense, pulling a stake from the back of her pocket. "Check the girl."
Spike marveled how she could tease him and then go straight to all business Slayer in the same breath. He thought it was unbelievably sexy. Moving on her cue towards the girl, he pulled the still very confused vampire up from his dinner and pushed him towards Buffy. "Cha, fledgling, you're in a fight. Buck up and get started," he instructed, annoyed with the youth of his species.
"Wha…what?"
"That's the Slayer, Messy. She wants to kill you. I'd defend myself if I were you."
The fledgling blinked. "Slayer?" he asked, voice shaking.
Spike nodded.
"But then…you're…why are you…"
"Damn he's stupid," Buffy laughed. "I almost feel bad about having to stake him."
"My name's Spike," Spike stated slowly. "Get it, now?"
"Oh… you're the…the…traitor…" the vamp wobbled. "Sire said I was to stay away from you."
"Well, good job, defying your sire already?" Spike quipped, checking the girl's pulse. He placed his hand over her bleeding wound. "Run," he instructed. "Or go inside. Get some help. You're bleedin' a lot. Thank Messy for bein' inconsiderate and rippin' through staid of puncturin' neatly."
She got up, whimpered a bit, and ran off towards the street. Spike sighed and leaned against the brick wall, waiting for Buffy to finish.
"I didn't… I should be here," Messy muttered, looking for a way out. Spike just raised his eyebrows in amusement.
"Don't make 'em like they used to, eh gorgeous?"
Buffy shrugged. "Makes my job easier," she returned, twirling her stake. The vampire took one last look between Buffy and Spike and tried to make a break for it down Spike's alley, into the shadows.
Spike rolled his eyes and stuck out his foot, tripping the vamp, sending it head first to meet the floor. There was a small splashing noise as it hit a puddle of who knew what on its trip down. "This is bloody ridiculous. Am I the only one that feels like the school yard bully?"
"Nope," Buffy responded. "I feel kind of pathetic too. But hey, job's a job, right?"
"Right then." Spike motioned towards the vamp, which was still crawling on all fours, trying to get away.
Buffy sighed. "Tomorrow before patrol, you and I are SOOO going to spar. I need a decent fight. I'm going to be Buffy, the-out-of-practice-Slayer if the pickings are all like this."
"It's a deal, pet."
Buffy threw her stake. It embedded itself perfectly into the vamp's chest, penetrating him through the back. He dusted easily, making sort of a deflating sound as he did. The stake clattered to the floor.
"He said Sire, you know."
Buffy nodded. "I know."
"Wonder who'd be stupid enough to sire someone like that."
"Someone new at it, or someone completely off his rocker," Spike replied. "We'll find out."
"Yeah."
"So."
"So."
They stood in silence for a second, looking at each other from down the alleyway. There was mischief in Spike's eyes, and he indifferently took the wad of gum in his mouth and tossed it into a nearby dumpster. She regarded him casually; hand on the back of her neck. After another minute they broke out into grins and met halfway, each heading towards one another.
It was a sort of game they played, see who broke down first and headed for the other. He wagered if it went to any longer than a minute he would swallow it and go to HER, but it usually ended up in a tie anyway. And meeting halfway was good for him. He kissed her thoroughly. "We're bloody immature, you'n I."
She nodded and led him back into the Bronze, his arm draped across her abdomen as they walked together. "Yeah, we are."
"Love you."
"Love you too."
He nuzzled her cheek. "Back inside, then?"
"Mmm hmm."
"Or would you rather…" his voice turned from sweet to seductive, and she felt the distinct rumblings of want reverberate in his chest. She instantly became what could be called the dreaded weak-kneed Slayer and leaned against him.
He chuckled in her ear. "I love it when you do that, you know. Makes me feel all manly."
"Yeah well…" she coughed. "It's a reflex. I have weak knees. And I thought weapons did that to you?"
"Is that how we're playing, then?" he asked mischievously. He bit gently on the side of her throat.
"That's not fair," she complained, though insincerely when his fingers found their way up the back of her shirt and began drawing soft circles there.
"Fair?" he snorted. "You know I play to win, lover."
That was true. She sighed and pulled back reluctantly. "We're going back inside now. Because if we stay out here, things will get kinky."
"And that's bad?"
She wrinkled her nose. "It is when you can smell Bronze dumpster."
"Good point."
Author/s: Celeste and Debbie (Peroxide Pest and Nocturne Wytche)
Rating: PG-R
Disclaimer: Not ours, we're just borrowing for the sake of borrowing. Joss can blame our muses…
Feedback: (yes!) keviesprincess@netscape.net (Celeste) and/or celtskye@aol.com (Debbie)
Genre: Action/Romance
Pairing: S/B, X/A, W/T
Summary: Drusilla creates a foe almost as formidable as Spike himself. What does he want? A Slayer.
Notes: Sequel to Imitor Vita Pro Amor. But wait, it's not bad! We hope. Er…we'll see, I suppose.
In order to fully understand this fic, you may want to go back and read its prequel, Imitor Vita Pro Amor. It explains why there's so much fluff in the beggining of LAIEOTNOMAB, since fluff was zero to nill in Imitor, we wanted to please our readers with a lil OD on sap, which never hurt anyone. Fear not, trouble looms and a real plot is somewhere in this story come chapter 5 LOL :) Thanks!
Chapter One: Schoolwork
"What rhymes with surmise?" Buffy asked conversationally, pausing from writing in her notepad as she sat atop a gravestone. She chewed on the eraser of her pencil thoughtfully.
Spike grunted and ducked a punch from the vampire he was fighting, not three feet away from where the Slayer sat. "Surmise?" He stopped mid lunge to think about it, giving his newly risen opponent time to regain his equilibrium and gear up for another attack. "Your thighs," He finally stated, grinning at her devilishly in the moonlight. He grabbed the fledgling's arm and snapped the bone halfway between the wrist and the elbow when it tried to take another swipe at him. The vamp howled in protest.
Buffy rolled her eyes at his comment. It figured that would be the first thing that came to mind. "Pig," she insulted, though there was no real malice behind it.
"How about, French fries?"
"I'm not hungry."
"No you bint, in rhymes."
"Who the hell uses French fries in poetry?" she shot back.
"Well you could have been more specific, pet," he shrugged, kicking the vamp on the side of the head, causing it to whirl backwards into the ground.
"Like you didn't know I have that assignment to turn in on Monday. You're the reason I haven't had time to do it until now. So stop playing around and help me out."
"Flies?"
"Doesn't fit the mood of the poem."
He snapped the fledgling's spine with his hands and grinned at the crack. "Cries," he suggested helpfully, hearing the whimpers of the broken vampire lying at his feet.
"Would you hurry up and make with the vacuum dust so we can move on? I really need to finish this poem."
"What kind of stupid major grade is poetry anyway? I mean it's not like they can bloody well grade it objectively. They either get it or they don't. Or they like it or they don't. It's not quite fair to grade it on their own personal rubric if you ask me," Spike mused, crushing the fingers of his victim beneath his boot as he patted his duster, looking for his stake. He didn't feel it. "Er, seems I'm a bit short tonight pet, must have lost it in the scuffle." He smiled charmingly at her. "Can I borrow?"
She sighed and pulled a stake from the waistband of her pants, tossing it at him before crossing out the last line of her blasted poem. He caught it and grinned his thanks, jumping off the vamp's back and staking it neatly. It exploded underneath him, and he swiped a bit of dust from the front of his jacket, the smile never leaving his face. "Dies."
"That's great!" she responded. "It rhymes and it fits." The Slayer paused. "Gee, you'd think I'd have been able to come up with that on my own."
"Yeah, you'd think," Spike teased back. She didn't take offense to the remark and simply jotted down a note to herself on the side of her paper, which said to come up with a line with the right amount of syllables, ending with the word 'dies'. "So, now what?" he asked, still worked up from his little tussle. If it could be considered that, even. He needed something else to kill.
"Well, we could do a sweep by the Bronze, and then head to the Magic Shop."
"Sounds like a plan. Been weeks since I've had a decent plate of hot wings, a beer, and a dance with my best girl." He offered his hand to her, which she took without hesitation.
After helping her off of the tombstone and giving him a quick peck on the lips, she took one last perusal of her night's poetry homework and shut the yellow notepad to take a break from the assignment. Spike motioned her ahead of him, overdoing the gallantry in the action, as was his custom. She shook her head at him but still smiled, accepting his offer and striding out before him. He was at her side shortly after, and they walked together in silence. It was a comfortable silence; something that had come naturally for both vampire and slayer as things progressed from the three stages of sworn enemies, friends, and lovers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dawn Summers danced wildly to the music in the club, smiling and giggling over the fact that it was Friday and school was gone for the weekend. She looked over at Tara and grinned.
Tara smiled back at the young teen, enjoying the craziness herself.
Willow, Anya and Xander were also dancing like maniacs amongst the crowd, relaxed after a particularly good three weeks of non-apocalyptic action and bent on having a good time while it lasted. Because everyone knew that the good times in Sunnydale never really lasted.
Dawn's eyes traced the club and her smile brightened upon seeing Spike and Buffy finally joining them after patrol and slayage. She waved in their direction and they waved back at her, both with looks of relief on their faces seeing the girl safe and having fun. Lots of fun. To make up for her almost getting the life sucked out of her and stuff.
For the first time in about two weeks, things were peaceful in Sunnydale. As peaceful as a hellmouth could possibly get, in any case. Dawn felt like a normal teenage girl, too. Well, as normal as a girl whose sister slew vampires and dated one could be. Not to mention her own occasional power headaches from the mystical energy that made her...well her.
She pushed aside bad thoughts, smiling at the thought of Spike. The platinum blonde vamp that adored her was no more than fifty feet from away from her. He never let his Lil Bit (as he preferred to call her) out of his sight when he could help it. He was for all means and purposes, her surrogate father. Except he was way cooler. And cuter.
Especially now that he was dating Buffy. Well, seeing her. Okay, kissing her at the least.
The two had been caught smooching at this very spot about two weeks ago, the day after saving Dawn's life, and she couldn't have been happier for the two. Things were progressing slowly between them. At least in front of her, and the Scoobies. She was quite sure there was major kissage while they patrolled at night. She was also pretty sure Giles knew nothing of it. Yet. From the looks of it now the two were keeping it quiet, breaking everyone into the idea slowly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not far from the dance floor, sitting at a table was the aforementioned couple, eyes darting from each other to the precious little girl on the floor dancing with her friends.
A waitress came by, dropping a beer and Buffalo wings near Spike and a coke near Buffy. "Anything else I can get you two?"
"No thanks," Buffy smiled shortly.
The waitress eyed Spike admiringly. "No problem..." she responded with a sickeningly sweet, slightly suggestive tone.
Buffy's smile turned into a look of annoyance. She'd hadn't been with Spike long enough to have had this kind of experience with him yet. But instantly, she did know that she wanted to smack the waitress around 'til the skank couldn't see straight. Her smile straightened into a line. "Be careful, he bites," she warned the other woman.
The waitress jumped, her gaze on Spike broken. "Huh... oh..." she blushed, scurrying off.
Spike turned his head to the slayer with a bright, cocky smile and raised brows. He whistled. "Pet, are your eyes turning green?"
Buffy gave him a get-real look, though she felt her skin burn hot with the truth of the matter. "Of course not."
Spike chuckled, feeling truly warmed by her envy. It was just so damned cute. "Don't worry, luv..."
"Worried? Who's worried?" Buffy fidgeted with her straw.
Spike never felt so good in his whole life. He shook his head, watching her with pure affection. "Maybe you should write a poem about green eyes, luv."
"Oh, would you stop? I'm not jealous," she huffed stubbornly.
"Oh?" Spike cocked his head to the side. "What if I tell you she's lookin' at me right now?" he asked smoothly. He always had enjoyed baiting his girl. This would be fun. In the end she'd enjoy the outcome, anyway.
Buffy nearly choked at his suggestion as she sipped her soda. Her eyes turned to the bar, looking for the waitress. Sure enough, the little twit was staring at her man from across the club. "Wait'll she gets a load of your other face." Buffy snorted, trying to make light of the pang she got in her chest at the thought of any other woman touching him. She went back to her soda.
Spike knew it was all in good fun so he leaned over, his hands slipping across her shoulder to the nape of her neck. "Hmm...think she can handle the wrinklies?" he morphed into his game face, nose to nose with the Slayer.
Buffy turned to him and shrugged nonchalantly starring at his game face. "It's actually an improvement."
Spike shook off his visage with a deep laugh. He nipped at her neck playfully with blunt teeth. "What say we really give her something to look at?" he implied wickedly, his voice hoarse with suggestion. He rubbed his cool nose along her jugular and let out a tiny purr, just to push her over the edge.
He'd finally learn to control the annoying noise shortly after they'd begun the major kissing sessions, and he loved teasing her. He could always feel her heart rate increase and lil goose bumps pop up on her arms when he purred. So anything that could get that sort of reaction from her was good, in his book.
She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, feeling his lips buried into her neck, his hand brushing back her hair. "Spike…honey… the others? "
He brushed his lips up to ear lobe, teasing it with little nips of his teeth. "Come off it, luv. They know..."
"But…comfortable... with... it... yet?" she was sinking and giving in to his whims rapidly.
"Hmm, but you smell sooo good pet..." he licked her neck. "Taste good too."
Buffy's heart hammered so loudly, even she heard it. She gasped delightedly at the tingling trail his kisses left behind, enjoying his ministrations far too much for the public eye. She pulled away a bit and gripped his face. "You're a very wicked man..." she groaned, diving into his lips.
Spike's hands snaked into her hair and his smug smile disappeared as her lips went wild over his. In fact, he lost all thought except for the pleasure of kissing her. He deepened the kiss, losing all concept of where they were and what they were doing. All that existed was her. He groaned terribly loud and she gasped.
"Spike!" she chuckled, turning red. She knew people were staring.
"Sorry," he whispered, kissing her again.
She opened her eyes to make sure his were shut tightly, and spied a look over at the bar.
She felt an immense boost of womanly self-satisfaction at the look of envious horror on the waitress's face. *Hmph so there... bitch,* she thought to herself, before turning back to Spike. Her eyes returned to him and she jumped a little, seeing him staring straight at her.
"Hmm...luv...eyes may not be so green no more, but your face is quite flushed," he teased huskily, with a wink.
She socked him in the jaw. "Monster."
"Bitch," he spat back.
Then they returned to each other's arms quickly, jumping into another heated kiss.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Xander groaned. "Ya know I like the guy and all, but have they ever heard the term 'get a room'?"
"Oh, you mean to have sex?" Anya asked. "Why do they need one if we..."
"Ahn..." Xander silenced her with a hand.
Dawn smirked and giggled delightedly. "I think it's cute."
"It's sweet," Tara agreed, leaning her head on Willow.
"Well, at least its not the Poofter," Xander shrugged. "Still... takes a lil getting used to..."
"Well…yeah… but still cute," Willow argued lamely, grinning with thoughts of happy Buffy.
"He's good for her," Tara agreed, watching with a small, flitting grin.
Dawn's eyes followed her sister, her face covered in what Spike called the "Cheshire smirk." "The smooches are nothing compared to the things I've seen and heard, Xander," she teased.
"What?" Xander stopped dancing.
"Relax, 'm kidding!" Dawn relished in the look of shock on Xander's face.
"Okay, one thing at a time here! I'm about to go on overload. I still have nightmares of Spike and the Buffy-bot." Xander put a hand to his head. "Kissing and hugging...okay, holding hands, I can deal... but Dawnie, don't cross into the world of bondage and adult novelty toys yet... please..."
"Gross much?" Dawn stuck her tongue out distastefully. "They fell asleep together on the couch, that's all. Major cuteness points."
"And also major boyfriend points when he didn't wake up as the dust you push under the rug," Anya added.
"Wonder when they'll tell Giles," Willow mentioned, eyes wide when Buffy socked Spike in the jaw and then kissed the spot she'd pounded when he growled.
"Hopefully before he catches them in a groping contest, like we did two weeks ago," Xander teased.
Dawn rolled her eyes. "And you say Anya's the sex-fiend."
He turned to Dawn, he jaw dropping in abject horror. "I don't ever wanna hear that dirty word come outta your mouth again, young lady!" Xander shook his finger sternly at her, trying his best to look serious. It didn't work so well as he cracked a grin when Dawn gave him that famous, Summers's "piss-off" look.
"Hey, Pigeon..." Spike snuck up behind Dawn, yanking on her long locks gently.
Dawn spun and socked him in the chest with a big grin. "Spike..."
Spike gasped with exaggeration, clutching his stomach. "Big sis been teaching you a thing or two?"
"Yeah," Dawn chuckled.
"No wonder it didn't hurt," he snorted, straightening.
Buffy whacked him in the head.
"Bloody hell!!" Spike growled.
Buffy smirked with a teasing smile. "Sounded painful to me."
"Speaking of pain, how went the slayage?" Willow asked.
"Another slow night. Got some school work done while Spike did all the actual work." She clung to his arm in thanks.
"Oh good," Willow smiled. "I'm so glad you're back in school."
"Leaping for joy here too," Buffy joked. "Trying to get this stupid poem done for poetry..."
"Well, why doesn't Spike help you? You used to be a poet weren't you?" Dawn asked.
"Bollocks...Zip it, lil bint..." Spike placed a finger to her lips.
"That's right...William...the bloody..." Buffy fought a giggle building... "Bloody awful poet," she said in a lame British accent.
"Ah… right then laugh at the poor vampire. He has no feelings, rip him to shreds, that's right. Sod off," Spike huffed, yanking his arm free. He stormed to the back, towards the bar.
"Whoops..." Dawn frowned. "Think we hurt his feelings."
"Poor guy..." Tara pouted.
Buffy frowned. "Forgot how sensitive he is about his William side..."
"How did you know... never mind... it's like the whole bondage issue, so don't wanna know..." Xander pulled Anya away from the group as a ballad played in the club.
Buffy shook off her confusion with Xander. "Better go make nice with the big bad vamp."
"Tell him 'm sorry too," Dawn frowned deeper, feeling guilty.
"C'mon Dawnie, lets go do the girl thing and get to the bathroom together," Tara wrapped her arm around her shoulder. "Fix the make-up and stuff."
"Cool," Dawn smiled, looking back as she walked away.
Buffy approached him with caution. He looked broody, leaning against the bar, waiting for a drink from the bartender. His back was turned to her, so she slipped up to him and wrapped her arms around him from behind. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she placed a peace offering kiss on his neck. "Sorry, baby..." she whispered, sounding appropriately contrite.
He didn't move in response, just snorted.
"I didn't mean to embarrass you, Spike. I forgot how sensitive you are about your past as William..." she apologized, sincerely.
"Sensitive?" he huffed. "I'm not sensitive, Slayer."
"Oh right, Mr. Non-sensitive, Buffy I love you, I exist for you guy..." she drawled, tightening her hold on him, and doing a poor imitation of his voice. "I'm sorry, Spike. I really am."
He melted a little, never able stay mad at her for long. "Well...damn it Slayer, William was a bloody wanker..."
"No he wasn't, he's still a part of you." she disagreed. "I bet you're not as bad at the poetry as you said you were, either. Who helped me with the poem tonight, huh?"
"Hell, all I did was find a word that rhymed with 'surmise' for you..." he responded, turning to the side so he could see her.
"So?" She hugged him, tighter. "I bet you just weren't inspired enough. How 'bout I inspire you, huh? Betcha I'll have you spouting stanza after stanza with the right motivation," she teased, kissing his ear, his cheek, the side of his lips.
He groaned. "That's not playing fair. I'm supposed to be mad at you, and you're supposed to grovel."
"Who says I'm not groveling now?" she asked indignantly, lips still brushing the skin along the juncture of his jaw and throat.
"Well for one thing, you haven't done that thing with your tongue and the…ahh…that's it…" he mumbled, feeling her switch to exactly what he was thinking. "Bloody hell, pet…" he breathed.
"So, you forgive me?" she asked, biting the side of his neck playfully.
"Maybe."
Her eyes sparkled. His tone said that he'd forgiven her a while ago, but he just wanted an excuse for her to be nuzzle-Buffy. She could deal with that. "Maybe?" she repeated. She placed a series of soft kisses along his jaw. "How about now?"
"Nope."
She nibbled his earlobe. "Now?"
"Getting closer."
She turned his face towards her and kissed him soundly. "Now?"
He seemed to contemplate it a second, and then sighed. "Only because you know my weaknesses," he proclaimed melodramatically, diving in to steal another quick kiss. Sure, he'd been annoyed when she'd made fun of his past in front of everyone, but seeing this girl, kissing him, touching him, wanting HIM, he just couldn't find the strength to be angry. It was too much of a miracle that she felt the desire to spend her time with the likes of him and he didn't want to waste potential moments fighting over stupid things like his all too mortal insecurities. Sighing, he pulled her into his lap and buried his face into her hair. "You dirty little temptress."
"That's me. Buffy the temptress."
He growled low in his throat. "Naughty."
"Mmm hmmm," she sighed, loving the sounds he could make, and how each of them made her feel. That sound made her feel absolutely delicious. He further proved the point by nipping at her throat with his blunt teeth. She giggled and leaned into him. "So all is forgiven?"
"Oh no. I punish you tonight. Lots," he warned, wickedly.
"Promise?"
"Swear it on Poofy's hair gel," he vowed, kissing the place he'd seconds ago bit. "Though I'm tempted to take you right here, Slayer. Taste bloody great," he murmured, breath cool against her skin.
"Keep that up Blondie, and we'll be out of here suspiciously quick, and you KNOW Anya will have something to say about that."
"Oh like they don't already know."
"I think Xander's been trying not to think about it. Having it voiced might destroy his fragile façade," she responded, lightly.
"However his reaction is, can't be as bad as the Watcher's."
Buffy frowned a bit at that. "Yeah…think we should tell Giles soon?"
Spike looked at her incredulously. "I thought we agreed to after a month."
"That was only in case things weren't working out smoothly," she reminded him. "And they ARE working out, very well. REALLY well."
He turned sly. "Oh really? How well?"
She noticed the look on his face, and went on without missing a beat. "How well?" She tossed her hair in the most coquettish manner possible, looking temptingly innocent and thoughtful as she pondered the answer to his question. "Well enough that I can't keep my naughty hands off of you," she answered, diving in to capturing his lower lip in between hers.
He pulled back to look at her, wicked gleam in his eye. "Yeah? That it, then?"
"I can't stop thinking about you," she added, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers. "Can't imagine not being with you."
"I'd say that's working out well," he responded, squeezing her hand tenderly. "So you want to tell him, then?"
She placed his hand across her stomach and began to play idly with his fingers. "What do you think he'll say?"
"He might go for the liquor cabinet again," Spike smirked.
She swatted him gently. "That's not allaying my fears."
"Sorry, pet. Naughty me, now."
"You don't REALLY think he'd flip, do you?"
"He might do that thing where he blinks a lot and then cleans his glasses…" Spike suggested.
"You don't think he'll give me the, "Bad Buffy, Bad" lecture, do you?"
"No… Rupert will probably just stake me," Spike responded. "No lecture."
"He would not. Stake you."
"I would, if some bloke were sniffin' round my daughter like that…" he responded honestly.
"So I should warn Dawn about bringing home boys for you to meet?"
He was oddly touched by her seemingly offhanded remark. That's what he was now, then? Dawn's father figure? He belatedly wondered if he should be worried that the male influence of his girl's adolescent life was a soulless vampire. Then he realized that he'd thought himself into some sort of paradox and evacuated the entire thing from his mind. "She's not bringing boys home until she's bloody well 30," he stated, air of authority about him over the matter.
Buffy snickered. "Don't think Dawnie would agree with you on that one."
"Well, I'm puttin' my foot down. I know what the nasty lil buggers think about when they meet a girl. I used to do it all the time myself, thinkin' 'bout you. Far as I'm concerned, they don't touch her with one grubby paw."
"Putting your foot down?" she snorted. "All she'd have to do is give you those puppy eyes and you'd be a big puddle of Spike on the floor."
He turned indignant. "Would not! I'm impervious. It's a vampire superpower."
"Which you apparently missed out on. You know she's got you wrapped around her little finger."
He pouted. "Does not."
"How about last week?"
"What do you mean last week?"
"When you let her eat ice cream for breakfast."
"Well, you were sleepin'… an' we were out of eggs. She told me Joyce let her do it every now and again."
"Spike puddle," she murmured playfully in his ear.
He couldn't help but agree with her after turning over the events of last week in his mind. "Okay, yeah. I'm a bloody Nancy boy," he sighed.
"Which I love," she added, helpfully.
"Well, at least I get THAT consolation prize…" he started.
She slugged him in the shoulder lightly. "Consolation prize?"
"Grand prize," he corrected. "Best bloody prize of all time. Can't help but feel like I ripped someone off when I got it sort of prize."
She nodded and kissed him. "Better."
He pulled her in for a deeper kiss with a little growl, which she found sexy in boundless ways. However, three seconds in and she pulled back abruptly, her senses tingling. He sighed and they shared a look. "Vampire," they muttered in unison, spinning in their seat to face the other direction.
"Three guesses as to which one of our lucky Bronzers it is," Buffy wagered.
"Only need one," he responded, nodding over towards the door, where a badly dressed scrawny boy vamp of a thing led an obviously drunk chitty outside. "That one SMELLS like he's bloody been dead for 5 or 6 years," he muttered, wrinkling his nose.
"Lucky for me you discovered the finer points of undead hygiene," she drawled in response, getting up off his lap.
Spike growled at the empty feeling he got whenever he was out of contact with her, annoyed at the vamp for ruining the moment. "I say we torture 'im."
She took his hand and led him out the door. "Takes too long," she replied, as if she'd seriously considered his proposal. "And I want to get back to where we were as soon as possible."
"Like the way you think," he rumbled seductively.
"Spike, stop," she warned him. "I need to be strong kneed slayer to fight. No melty knees."
He smirked, eyes sparking with life in the dull light of the club. He knew exactly what those sounds could do to her when used correctly. He cleared his throat to make his voice normal. "Right then. Melty knees later?"
She nodded, smiling dreamily. "Later."
"Right. Let's finish this quick…" he stated, reaching into his duster pocket. He sighed when he remembered that he no longer smoked, and came up, rather disappointingly, with a package of gum instead. He pulled one from the val-u pack (though he still wondered why 18 sticks constituted as a steal) and popped a stick into his mouth. Yeah, the big bad gum chewer he was. He sighed and followed Buffy down the alley until they rounded the corner, coming up, as usual, to the darkest, dankest area behind the club one could possibly find. And there was smelly vamp boy, doing what looked like necking to the untrained eye. Spike could smell the blood a mile away.
"You want the first zinger?" Buffy asked, peering over at her prey.
He shrugged. "Why not?" Spike grinned and cleared his throat. "Nothin' more disgustin' than a messy eater, you know."
The vamp's head shot up, and sure enough, the front of his mouth and shirt were covered in blood. Spike made a face. Sires just weren't training their childer like they used to. He tsk tsked out loud. "In the presence of ladies, no doubt. Wipe your mouth, Messy."
The vampire looked completely surprised. "What?"
"You heard me. Respect your elders. Have a little dignity. Clean yourself up."
The fledgling, surprised, but knowing enough about older, stronger vampires (and this one SMELLED strong) to listen to them. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket. "Erm…"
Spike ignored him. "Right then. You want, or do you want me to take him?"
Buffy looked thoughtful. "Well, you did all the slayage earlier. Why not let me have a go?"
His eyebrows quirked. "New turn of phrase?"
"I only start talking like the vampires I constantly hang out with," she drawled in her defense, pulling a stake from the back of her pocket. "Check the girl."
Spike marveled how she could tease him and then go straight to all business Slayer in the same breath. He thought it was unbelievably sexy. Moving on her cue towards the girl, he pulled the still very confused vampire up from his dinner and pushed him towards Buffy. "Cha, fledgling, you're in a fight. Buck up and get started," he instructed, annoyed with the youth of his species.
"Wha…what?"
"That's the Slayer, Messy. She wants to kill you. I'd defend myself if I were you."
The fledgling blinked. "Slayer?" he asked, voice shaking.
Spike nodded.
"But then…you're…why are you…"
"Damn he's stupid," Buffy laughed. "I almost feel bad about having to stake him."
"My name's Spike," Spike stated slowly. "Get it, now?"
"Oh… you're the…the…traitor…" the vamp wobbled. "Sire said I was to stay away from you."
"Well, good job, defying your sire already?" Spike quipped, checking the girl's pulse. He placed his hand over her bleeding wound. "Run," he instructed. "Or go inside. Get some help. You're bleedin' a lot. Thank Messy for bein' inconsiderate and rippin' through staid of puncturin' neatly."
She got up, whimpered a bit, and ran off towards the street. Spike sighed and leaned against the brick wall, waiting for Buffy to finish.
"I didn't… I should be here," Messy muttered, looking for a way out. Spike just raised his eyebrows in amusement.
"Don't make 'em like they used to, eh gorgeous?"
Buffy shrugged. "Makes my job easier," she returned, twirling her stake. The vampire took one last look between Buffy and Spike and tried to make a break for it down Spike's alley, into the shadows.
Spike rolled his eyes and stuck out his foot, tripping the vamp, sending it head first to meet the floor. There was a small splashing noise as it hit a puddle of who knew what on its trip down. "This is bloody ridiculous. Am I the only one that feels like the school yard bully?"
"Nope," Buffy responded. "I feel kind of pathetic too. But hey, job's a job, right?"
"Right then." Spike motioned towards the vamp, which was still crawling on all fours, trying to get away.
Buffy sighed. "Tomorrow before patrol, you and I are SOOO going to spar. I need a decent fight. I'm going to be Buffy, the-out-of-practice-Slayer if the pickings are all like this."
"It's a deal, pet."
Buffy threw her stake. It embedded itself perfectly into the vamp's chest, penetrating him through the back. He dusted easily, making sort of a deflating sound as he did. The stake clattered to the floor.
"He said Sire, you know."
Buffy nodded. "I know."
"Wonder who'd be stupid enough to sire someone like that."
"Someone new at it, or someone completely off his rocker," Spike replied. "We'll find out."
"Yeah."
"So."
"So."
They stood in silence for a second, looking at each other from down the alleyway. There was mischief in Spike's eyes, and he indifferently took the wad of gum in his mouth and tossed it into a nearby dumpster. She regarded him casually; hand on the back of her neck. After another minute they broke out into grins and met halfway, each heading towards one another.
It was a sort of game they played, see who broke down first and headed for the other. He wagered if it went to any longer than a minute he would swallow it and go to HER, but it usually ended up in a tie anyway. And meeting halfway was good for him. He kissed her thoroughly. "We're bloody immature, you'n I."
She nodded and led him back into the Bronze, his arm draped across her abdomen as they walked together. "Yeah, we are."
"Love you."
"Love you too."
He nuzzled her cheek. "Back inside, then?"
"Mmm hmm."
"Or would you rather…" his voice turned from sweet to seductive, and she felt the distinct rumblings of want reverberate in his chest. She instantly became what could be called the dreaded weak-kneed Slayer and leaned against him.
He chuckled in her ear. "I love it when you do that, you know. Makes me feel all manly."
"Yeah well…" she coughed. "It's a reflex. I have weak knees. And I thought weapons did that to you?"
"Is that how we're playing, then?" he asked mischievously. He bit gently on the side of her throat.
"That's not fair," she complained, though insincerely when his fingers found their way up the back of her shirt and began drawing soft circles there.
"Fair?" he snorted. "You know I play to win, lover."
That was true. She sighed and pulled back reluctantly. "We're going back inside now. Because if we stay out here, things will get kinky."
"And that's bad?"
She wrinkled her nose. "It is when you can smell Bronze dumpster."
"Good point."