Buffy yawned enormously and slid slowly out of bed to stretch. Mmm.
Morning. The tickle fights and... she smiled slowly... kisses had tired
her out. She gave a small half-chuckle at the thought of Spike's quiet
snore every once in a while. Him, too. She went downstairs, puttered
around in an attempt at scrambled eggs.
Spike woke up slowly, smelling a hint of slightly burned eggs. He stretched, one hand going down into the cushions of the couch. What was that? He pulled out the small tube, looked at it. Lip gloss? What was... He paused, sniffed at it. Mango. Dawn's. But he had left it... He got up, stuffing the lipgloss in his pocket, and heading for the kitchen.
He yawned, gave her a small smile. "Mornin' luv." No need to bring up the Lip Gloss now. He walked over and slipped his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "How'd you sleep?"
She gave a small smile as she let him drape himself on her. He was so.. rumpled. His once pristine blue shirt was now wrinkled and had dots of lint from the couch across it. "Fine. You?"
He smiled, kissed her cheek. "Great. I wonder why I never have nightmares when I'm on your couch."
Buffy shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe you should get one."
He shook his head slightly. "Naw. It's not the couch. It's the smell. Home. Family. I love it here."
"Oh, that would explain some of it." She turned the eggs off, dislodging him to get two plates from a cupboard. "We're going to let Dawn sleep in." She smiled happily. "She had a good night."
He stretched, a little annoyed that his human heating pad had moved and followed her to the cupboard. "If Dawn's sleeping in, why'd you fix six eggs?"
She shrugged, still feeling light. "Felt like it? And you're gonna eat four, so we're good." She grabbed the pan, dished the eggs out according to her words, then grabbed two forks.
He chuckled and followed her to the table. "Good thing I don't have to worry about cholesterol."
She gave a smile and sat down to nibble at her eggs.
"So," he began, taking a bite of his eggs. "Did you have fun last night?"
"Yeah, you?"
He chuckled. "Actually, yeah. Even though I'm guessing I lost the game of Dare. I was the only one who passed."
She nodded, a smirk on her lips. "Yeah.. I won."
He gave a pained sigh. "So, what did you win? We never decided on stakes, no pun intended."
She pondered thoughtfully. "Dunno... I'll get back to you." Took another small bite of egg.
He swallowed a slightly burned piece of egg. "With my luck, you've probably won no time limit tickling privileges."
"Mmm... interesting, but payback's a bitch."
"Tell me that's not what you're going to do."
She picked up her plate, carried it to the garbage, scraped it, gave it a quick rinse then sat back down. "It's not."
He sighed. "Thank God. What is it then?" He likewise rinsed out his plate and returned to the table.
She smiled. "You let up on Dawn..." she paused. "And her dates."
He snorted, reached into his pocket, and placed the lip gloss on the table. "You two stop going behind my back."
She didn't even have the shame to wince. "Don't make us."
He looked at her. "You remember what she said the other day? I don't want her trying that on that.." Snort. "Andrew wanker."
She rolled her eyes. "Because Dawn would really do that. She's not- she's a good girl. Mom raised her better than that. Lip gloss is not a neon sign saying 'I'm easy! Kiss me!'"
He made a low growling sound. "I know that, Slayer. I'm not ignorant. I'm just worried about her. Relationships are a big thing."
"She knows, Spike. Look what everyone has put her through. She knows. She's not jumping into anything."
He sighed. "I know. I just.. sometimes I feel like I'm losing the connection that we had. She's got other friends. What does she need me for anymore?"
Buffy softened, but she was still frustrated. "You're not as easy to replace as you think, all right? What would she need a big brother for anyway?"
He looked at her. "I'm not?"
She turned to fix him with a cool stare. "What do you think? Because you're easy to replace, I'm working my butt off on this... relationship, and trying to make sure everyone plays nice, and everything is well- rounded, and-" She stood to stand by the sink, bracing her hands on the counter.
"I'm trying too, luv. It's just that.." He got up, walked over and leaned on the counter next to her. "Official Scooby or not, I just feel like I'm the... odd man out, so to speak. Besides Dawn, and you, I don't really have anyone who's just my friend. They all have reasons for tolerating me. But not you two. You must actually care about me, or else you'd just tell me to sod off like Harris does."
She fisted her hands in her hair. "Giles tolerates you because you're like his son, admitted by either of you or not. Xander tolerates you because you don't tolerate his crap, and you can give as good as you get. Willow IS your friend, and I wish you'd notice. Anya..." She sighed. "I have no idea." She turned from him and walked back to the table, to inanely tidy it. "I quit." It was quiet, resigned.
He stood there, thinking it over. Stared at the Slayer's back. "You quit what?"
She shrugged. "This. I won't be a buffer between a lover and my friends anymore. And..." Inhaled, exhaled, still frustrated. "this... lack of self-confidence is not like you. I won't build you up every day. You have to know your own worth. I love giving you boosts. But this is ridiculous."
He sighed, looked around. "I have self confidence." Eyes locked on the sink hose. "A lot of confidence. I just like hearing how you feel about me." He dismissed the sink idea. Not yet. It would wait...
She rounded on him, eyes flaring. "Do *not* play with me about this."
He looked at her. "Sorry, luv. You're right. Maybe it's still this bleedin' soul settling in. It's getting better, you know. I'm really only touchy about you and Dawn now."
"And I don't get why. We love you. Hello?"
He smiled. "I know. I know. And you know what? I don't get why either."
She rolled her eyes, the sparks of anger dying a bit to allow a weary laugh. "And women are complicated?"
"Damn straight."
"You're more complicated than ten women could TRY to be."
He chuckled. "That's because I've lived longer than ten women put together."
She snorted. "Someone sucked at math."
He snorted. "I was deliberately exaggerating." He eyed the hose again. "Don't push me."
Her eyes grew wide. "Now, Spike... You don't want to do that."
He reached for the hose, picked it up, and squeezed the trigger experimentally. A stream of water shot into the sink. If he turned it around, it was plenty powerful to reach all the way to the living room. "I don't?"
"Nope. One scream and Dawn, who is still ticked at you, comes running downstairs, yelling and glowy. Besides, the sun's up. You have to stay in the house with us all day if you do something stupid."
He took a step toward her, still brandishing the hose. "Oh? And what's the worst that you two could do to me? You wouldn't hurt me, you both love me. You said so."
She grinned ferally. "Love hurts. Tough love, gotta be cruel to be kind, that sort of thing..."
He chuckled. "And yet, I'm the one holding the hose." He squirted toward her, deliberately missing by about an inch, the water going right into a empty glass on the table. "Like I said, what's the worst you could do?"
She had jumped back, her body arching away from the spray. She searched her mind for useful ammo. "I won't kiss you. For two weeks. Bare minimum."
He squirted. "Uh uh. Wouldn't want to punish yourself too, would you, Slayer?" The spray barely grazed her arm.
She jerked her arm. "It's all about winning, Vampire."
He chuckled. "And you have no ammo. So how do you plan to win?" His other hand had sneaked back and turned the cold water on full blast. He squirted again, and hit her square in the stomach.
She gave an indignant gasp. "Sooo no smoochies for you."
He laughed and sprayed her again, with the nozzle on stream. It was freezing cold by now, and hit her ribs.
She squealed, made to jump at him.
He dodged, squirted her again, hitting her neck and sending water down her pajama shirt.
The cold water was frigid, and Buffy was not happy about it. She leapt at Spike, putting all her force behind her attack.
He laughed when she knocked him back against the counter. The nozzle had gotten pinned between them, and Spike squeezed the trigger again. Cold water, point blank, on both their stomachs.
She wrapped her hands around his, laughing, trying to wrestle it off of him.
"I'm not letting go of this, Slayer!", Spike laughed, squeezing again and soaking both of them.
She jerked. "Let," chuckle, "go..."
He laughed again. "Uh-uh." He aimed down, making water run down her leg. "Make me."
She leaned down, bit his wrist.
He jerked, and pointed up, squirting her neck in defense. "Not fair, Slayer. No pain."
She arched her brow. "Who said it hurt?" Buffy set on him, yanking and pulling, swearing and slipping on the water.
He laughed, squirted her again. "Not gonna work, luv. Force is not the answer."
And bingo. She attacked his ribs.
He laughed, and lost his balance, slipping down onto the wet kitchen floor taking the Slayer with him. He squirted her again, trying to get her off, but his aim went wide and the water hit the ceiling, then proceeded to drip on both of them. He kept hanging onto the hose as best he could, but it was getting harder.
She was wrestling it away from him one-handed, the other playing on his ribs. Her balance was precarious over his body, but she still reached her left foot down as far as she could, wiggled her toes against the skin of his foot.
He laughed hard, desperately trying to keep a hold on the hose. "Stop it!!"
With a final jerk the hose was hers. She crowed triumphantly, stood over him. She held him at hose point, as she backed carefully to the table and picked up a pen, watching him carefully as she backed towards the fridge, and the calendar that hung there. She counted carefully, then made an 'X' in one box. Then with careful deliberation, squirted him square in the face.
He shook his head like a dog, trying to climb up off the incredibly wet floor. "That wasn't fair, Slayer!" He got a devilish gleam in his eye. "Now it's your turn.." He lunged across the room as fast as he could go.
She squirted him as he charged at her, knowing it would do no good, but still effectively soaking him.
He roared, batted the hose away, and knocked the Slayer to the floor again. He stuck his hands slightly up her soaked pajama shirt and went right for the torture points on her ribs.
She squirmed, laughing quietly.
Spike was unimpressed with the quietness of her laughter, and moved up to an armpit with one hand and to her bellybutton with the other, his fingers wiggling unceasingly.
She let out a louder laugh, and tried to stifle it. "Sp-spike," she gasped. "Dawn's s-still sleeping!!!"
"She *WAS*," the Key whined loudly.
Both heads turned to her. Spike's hands continued their movement, however.
"Until some God-awful screeching *wafted* upstairs, as opposed to the smell of breakfast cooking, which is more than I could hope for," Dawn continued, ignoring her sister's senseless laughter and pleas.
Spike grinned at Dawn. "Come on, Lil' Bit. Help me, and I'll make you pancakes."
Her eyes lit up. "With chocolate chips?"
"You know it."
She gave Buffy a sympathetic look. "Sorry, Buff. If you could make pancakes, maybe things would be different." And pounced her. Both of them had missed, however, during their oh-so-precious exchange, that she had managed to get the hose back, and sprayed her delightful little sister in the face, just as she had Spike.
"EEEEEE-AAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUGH!!!!" Dawn screamed, deflecting the water with her hands.
"Don't let it throw you, Bit! Get her!"
Buffy swung the hose to spray him again in the face, aiming for his nose, hoping he would inhale some. Wiggled helplessly as Dawn used the moment to tickle her ribs.
Spike growled, but managed to remember not to breathe. Instead, he went for the spots on her hips.
Buffy knew when she was beat. "Ok!" She gasped around a tickle. "I give!"
Spike ran a finger up her ribs. "Take away the no kissing punishment, or I won't stop."
Dawn backed up, hands up. "So not going there."
Buffy considered. "One week."
"Nothing," Spike said, going for the armpit/bellybutton combo again. He turned to Dawn. "If you want your pancakes, grab a foot."
Dawn still made an 'eww' face. "You promised anyway, and I want no part of this twistedness."
"We're just playing, Bit."
Buffy snorted, squirmed. "One week," she gasped, "and you can TRY to kiss me. If I break, it's off..." Her eyes cut to her sister, pleading. "I made him promise to lighten up on you and dates."
"Really?"
"Yeah," she squirmed again. "And... defended," giggle, "your lip gloss."
Spike growled. "No week."
Dawn went forward to poke Spike decisively in the ribs.
Spike yelped. "Dawn, no!" He was determined to win for once.
She kept tickling. "Sorry, Spike. Still ticked about the gloss."
Spike started laughing, desperately trying to keep his now fragile hold on the squirming Slayer. "I'm sooorrryy!"
Dawn considered, then returned to tickle with a vengeance. "You held my face and wiped off my lips."
Buffy was free. "Thanks, Dawn."
Dawn stopped and stood by her sister. "Anytime."
Spike lay in the pool of water, half giggling, half growling at the sisters. "I'm beginning to wish that I'd never been sired. No one ever did that to me when I was human." He sat up, leaned against the fridge.
Buffy smiled. "You won Deepest Secret. Could you really hope for more?"
He snorted, then climbed to his feet. "I'll clean up the stupid water. And make pancakes."
Buffy laughed, giving him a hand to steady himself with. "I think Giles might have left some sweats here, if you wanna throw those in the dryer."
He looked at her, resigned. "Fine." He snorted again. When he thought that Buffy was out of range, he said to himself in vampiric, "*Never knew being tortured could be fun...*"
She snorted as she climbed the stairs. 'I happen to remember a trunk, Spike. And handcuffs. You've just never been tickled.'
"Not until you came along!", he yelled after her. He took a towel and began mopping up the water on the floor.
Dawn gave him a weird look, then climbed the stairs after her sister to change.
=========================================================================
Spike sat on the couch, feeling kind of dumb in Giles' old sweats, and still annoyed that he'd lost earlier.
Dawn was upstairs, passing on all her gossip about her date on the phone. Buffy came in, done with the dishes, and sat on the couch.
Spike grunted a greeting.
She smiled at his pout. "Dawn liked her pancakes."
"Yeah, yeah. She didn't even really earn 'em. I was being generous. She was supposed to help me, not you."
"She did help you, but then she found out I helped her, so she helped me."
He snorted. "I guess blood is thicker than pancake batter."
She leaned her head back on the couch, closed her eyes. "Always."
Spike glanced at her. Bloody hell. He wanted to kiss her so bad. He caught sight of the calendar in the kitchen. "Luv, you said I could *try* to kiss you, right?"
Female satisfaction took root in her body. "Try, is the operative word in that sentence."
He leaned toward her slowly.
She sighed and twisted her head to the side.
He growled and leaned back, pouting. "Huh. You couldn't have waited two more minutes to tag Dawn in? I almost had you."
She cracked one eye open. "Wow. So easily defeated."
He snorted. "I'll try again later. I'm tired now."
"So... by next, Saturday morning, you'll be able to kiss me again." She smiled, laid down on the couch, her feet in his lap. "Seven days."
He moaned.
"One hundred sixty eight hours."
A pained sound.
"Ten-thousand eighty minutes."
Pathetic whimper.
"Six-hundred and four thousand, eight hundred seconds."
He growled pitifully. As in a kitten would be more scary. "I get it already."
She curled on her side, legs still in his lap. "Just letting you know."
He laid his head back and closed his eyes, draping an arm over his forehead. "Fifteen minutes of pure fun equals a week of torture."
Sigh of contentment, a small wiggle. "Told you there'd be fallout."
No words, just a moan.
Buffy smiled. 'This is gonna be such a fun week.'
"I don't get it. I let you torture me. Not once, not twice, but FOUR times, counting this morning, and I do nothing. But you, get a little wet and *poof!*. There goes my reason for living."
She slanted her eyes at him. "One. Undead. And two, my mind, wit, body, personality and vivacious charm doesn't do it for you?" She reached for her apple lip gloss, still setting on the coffee table. Applied heavily. "Just my lips?" Smacked them together and placed the tube back on the table.
He swallowed. "No. It's everything. Lips are just one of my favorite parts, that's all."
She nibbled on the corner of her bottom lip. Pondered. "Hm."
He closed his eyes, not wanting to be too tempted.
She held in a laugh. Poor guy. Licked her lips. She did understand where he was coming from. Apple gloss was the best.
He sighed, attempting to ignore her closeness and scent. 'Maybe try going to sleep...', he thought.
Buffy chose then to squirm, attempting to find that perfect spot. Sighed contentedly as she found it.
'Ignore her, ignore her, ignore her..'
Her feet, now cold, snuck between his knees. Her breath evened out as she grew closer to sleep.
Spike heard her breathing slowing, and cracked an eye, looking at his drowsy Slayer. 'God, she's so cute..'
Eyes very droopy, she slurred, "Thank you..."
He smiled. "You're welcome, luv." He yawned, leaned back, and closed his eyes.
Spike woke up slowly, smelling a hint of slightly burned eggs. He stretched, one hand going down into the cushions of the couch. What was that? He pulled out the small tube, looked at it. Lip gloss? What was... He paused, sniffed at it. Mango. Dawn's. But he had left it... He got up, stuffing the lipgloss in his pocket, and heading for the kitchen.
He yawned, gave her a small smile. "Mornin' luv." No need to bring up the Lip Gloss now. He walked over and slipped his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "How'd you sleep?"
She gave a small smile as she let him drape himself on her. He was so.. rumpled. His once pristine blue shirt was now wrinkled and had dots of lint from the couch across it. "Fine. You?"
He smiled, kissed her cheek. "Great. I wonder why I never have nightmares when I'm on your couch."
Buffy shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe you should get one."
He shook his head slightly. "Naw. It's not the couch. It's the smell. Home. Family. I love it here."
"Oh, that would explain some of it." She turned the eggs off, dislodging him to get two plates from a cupboard. "We're going to let Dawn sleep in." She smiled happily. "She had a good night."
He stretched, a little annoyed that his human heating pad had moved and followed her to the cupboard. "If Dawn's sleeping in, why'd you fix six eggs?"
She shrugged, still feeling light. "Felt like it? And you're gonna eat four, so we're good." She grabbed the pan, dished the eggs out according to her words, then grabbed two forks.
He chuckled and followed her to the table. "Good thing I don't have to worry about cholesterol."
She gave a smile and sat down to nibble at her eggs.
"So," he began, taking a bite of his eggs. "Did you have fun last night?"
"Yeah, you?"
He chuckled. "Actually, yeah. Even though I'm guessing I lost the game of Dare. I was the only one who passed."
She nodded, a smirk on her lips. "Yeah.. I won."
He gave a pained sigh. "So, what did you win? We never decided on stakes, no pun intended."
She pondered thoughtfully. "Dunno... I'll get back to you." Took another small bite of egg.
He swallowed a slightly burned piece of egg. "With my luck, you've probably won no time limit tickling privileges."
"Mmm... interesting, but payback's a bitch."
"Tell me that's not what you're going to do."
She picked up her plate, carried it to the garbage, scraped it, gave it a quick rinse then sat back down. "It's not."
He sighed. "Thank God. What is it then?" He likewise rinsed out his plate and returned to the table.
She smiled. "You let up on Dawn..." she paused. "And her dates."
He snorted, reached into his pocket, and placed the lip gloss on the table. "You two stop going behind my back."
She didn't even have the shame to wince. "Don't make us."
He looked at her. "You remember what she said the other day? I don't want her trying that on that.." Snort. "Andrew wanker."
She rolled her eyes. "Because Dawn would really do that. She's not- she's a good girl. Mom raised her better than that. Lip gloss is not a neon sign saying 'I'm easy! Kiss me!'"
He made a low growling sound. "I know that, Slayer. I'm not ignorant. I'm just worried about her. Relationships are a big thing."
"She knows, Spike. Look what everyone has put her through. She knows. She's not jumping into anything."
He sighed. "I know. I just.. sometimes I feel like I'm losing the connection that we had. She's got other friends. What does she need me for anymore?"
Buffy softened, but she was still frustrated. "You're not as easy to replace as you think, all right? What would she need a big brother for anyway?"
He looked at her. "I'm not?"
She turned to fix him with a cool stare. "What do you think? Because you're easy to replace, I'm working my butt off on this... relationship, and trying to make sure everyone plays nice, and everything is well- rounded, and-" She stood to stand by the sink, bracing her hands on the counter.
"I'm trying too, luv. It's just that.." He got up, walked over and leaned on the counter next to her. "Official Scooby or not, I just feel like I'm the... odd man out, so to speak. Besides Dawn, and you, I don't really have anyone who's just my friend. They all have reasons for tolerating me. But not you two. You must actually care about me, or else you'd just tell me to sod off like Harris does."
She fisted her hands in her hair. "Giles tolerates you because you're like his son, admitted by either of you or not. Xander tolerates you because you don't tolerate his crap, and you can give as good as you get. Willow IS your friend, and I wish you'd notice. Anya..." She sighed. "I have no idea." She turned from him and walked back to the table, to inanely tidy it. "I quit." It was quiet, resigned.
He stood there, thinking it over. Stared at the Slayer's back. "You quit what?"
She shrugged. "This. I won't be a buffer between a lover and my friends anymore. And..." Inhaled, exhaled, still frustrated. "this... lack of self-confidence is not like you. I won't build you up every day. You have to know your own worth. I love giving you boosts. But this is ridiculous."
He sighed, looked around. "I have self confidence." Eyes locked on the sink hose. "A lot of confidence. I just like hearing how you feel about me." He dismissed the sink idea. Not yet. It would wait...
She rounded on him, eyes flaring. "Do *not* play with me about this."
He looked at her. "Sorry, luv. You're right. Maybe it's still this bleedin' soul settling in. It's getting better, you know. I'm really only touchy about you and Dawn now."
"And I don't get why. We love you. Hello?"
He smiled. "I know. I know. And you know what? I don't get why either."
She rolled her eyes, the sparks of anger dying a bit to allow a weary laugh. "And women are complicated?"
"Damn straight."
"You're more complicated than ten women could TRY to be."
He chuckled. "That's because I've lived longer than ten women put together."
She snorted. "Someone sucked at math."
He snorted. "I was deliberately exaggerating." He eyed the hose again. "Don't push me."
Her eyes grew wide. "Now, Spike... You don't want to do that."
He reached for the hose, picked it up, and squeezed the trigger experimentally. A stream of water shot into the sink. If he turned it around, it was plenty powerful to reach all the way to the living room. "I don't?"
"Nope. One scream and Dawn, who is still ticked at you, comes running downstairs, yelling and glowy. Besides, the sun's up. You have to stay in the house with us all day if you do something stupid."
He took a step toward her, still brandishing the hose. "Oh? And what's the worst that you two could do to me? You wouldn't hurt me, you both love me. You said so."
She grinned ferally. "Love hurts. Tough love, gotta be cruel to be kind, that sort of thing..."
He chuckled. "And yet, I'm the one holding the hose." He squirted toward her, deliberately missing by about an inch, the water going right into a empty glass on the table. "Like I said, what's the worst you could do?"
She had jumped back, her body arching away from the spray. She searched her mind for useful ammo. "I won't kiss you. For two weeks. Bare minimum."
He squirted. "Uh uh. Wouldn't want to punish yourself too, would you, Slayer?" The spray barely grazed her arm.
She jerked her arm. "It's all about winning, Vampire."
He chuckled. "And you have no ammo. So how do you plan to win?" His other hand had sneaked back and turned the cold water on full blast. He squirted again, and hit her square in the stomach.
She gave an indignant gasp. "Sooo no smoochies for you."
He laughed and sprayed her again, with the nozzle on stream. It was freezing cold by now, and hit her ribs.
She squealed, made to jump at him.
He dodged, squirted her again, hitting her neck and sending water down her pajama shirt.
The cold water was frigid, and Buffy was not happy about it. She leapt at Spike, putting all her force behind her attack.
He laughed when she knocked him back against the counter. The nozzle had gotten pinned between them, and Spike squeezed the trigger again. Cold water, point blank, on both their stomachs.
She wrapped her hands around his, laughing, trying to wrestle it off of him.
"I'm not letting go of this, Slayer!", Spike laughed, squeezing again and soaking both of them.
She jerked. "Let," chuckle, "go..."
He laughed again. "Uh-uh." He aimed down, making water run down her leg. "Make me."
She leaned down, bit his wrist.
He jerked, and pointed up, squirting her neck in defense. "Not fair, Slayer. No pain."
She arched her brow. "Who said it hurt?" Buffy set on him, yanking and pulling, swearing and slipping on the water.
He laughed, squirted her again. "Not gonna work, luv. Force is not the answer."
And bingo. She attacked his ribs.
He laughed, and lost his balance, slipping down onto the wet kitchen floor taking the Slayer with him. He squirted her again, trying to get her off, but his aim went wide and the water hit the ceiling, then proceeded to drip on both of them. He kept hanging onto the hose as best he could, but it was getting harder.
She was wrestling it away from him one-handed, the other playing on his ribs. Her balance was precarious over his body, but she still reached her left foot down as far as she could, wiggled her toes against the skin of his foot.
He laughed hard, desperately trying to keep a hold on the hose. "Stop it!!"
With a final jerk the hose was hers. She crowed triumphantly, stood over him. She held him at hose point, as she backed carefully to the table and picked up a pen, watching him carefully as she backed towards the fridge, and the calendar that hung there. She counted carefully, then made an 'X' in one box. Then with careful deliberation, squirted him square in the face.
He shook his head like a dog, trying to climb up off the incredibly wet floor. "That wasn't fair, Slayer!" He got a devilish gleam in his eye. "Now it's your turn.." He lunged across the room as fast as he could go.
She squirted him as he charged at her, knowing it would do no good, but still effectively soaking him.
He roared, batted the hose away, and knocked the Slayer to the floor again. He stuck his hands slightly up her soaked pajama shirt and went right for the torture points on her ribs.
She squirmed, laughing quietly.
Spike was unimpressed with the quietness of her laughter, and moved up to an armpit with one hand and to her bellybutton with the other, his fingers wiggling unceasingly.
She let out a louder laugh, and tried to stifle it. "Sp-spike," she gasped. "Dawn's s-still sleeping!!!"
"She *WAS*," the Key whined loudly.
Both heads turned to her. Spike's hands continued their movement, however.
"Until some God-awful screeching *wafted* upstairs, as opposed to the smell of breakfast cooking, which is more than I could hope for," Dawn continued, ignoring her sister's senseless laughter and pleas.
Spike grinned at Dawn. "Come on, Lil' Bit. Help me, and I'll make you pancakes."
Her eyes lit up. "With chocolate chips?"
"You know it."
She gave Buffy a sympathetic look. "Sorry, Buff. If you could make pancakes, maybe things would be different." And pounced her. Both of them had missed, however, during their oh-so-precious exchange, that she had managed to get the hose back, and sprayed her delightful little sister in the face, just as she had Spike.
"EEEEEE-AAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUGH!!!!" Dawn screamed, deflecting the water with her hands.
"Don't let it throw you, Bit! Get her!"
Buffy swung the hose to spray him again in the face, aiming for his nose, hoping he would inhale some. Wiggled helplessly as Dawn used the moment to tickle her ribs.
Spike growled, but managed to remember not to breathe. Instead, he went for the spots on her hips.
Buffy knew when she was beat. "Ok!" She gasped around a tickle. "I give!"
Spike ran a finger up her ribs. "Take away the no kissing punishment, or I won't stop."
Dawn backed up, hands up. "So not going there."
Buffy considered. "One week."
"Nothing," Spike said, going for the armpit/bellybutton combo again. He turned to Dawn. "If you want your pancakes, grab a foot."
Dawn still made an 'eww' face. "You promised anyway, and I want no part of this twistedness."
"We're just playing, Bit."
Buffy snorted, squirmed. "One week," she gasped, "and you can TRY to kiss me. If I break, it's off..." Her eyes cut to her sister, pleading. "I made him promise to lighten up on you and dates."
"Really?"
"Yeah," she squirmed again. "And... defended," giggle, "your lip gloss."
Spike growled. "No week."
Dawn went forward to poke Spike decisively in the ribs.
Spike yelped. "Dawn, no!" He was determined to win for once.
She kept tickling. "Sorry, Spike. Still ticked about the gloss."
Spike started laughing, desperately trying to keep his now fragile hold on the squirming Slayer. "I'm sooorrryy!"
Dawn considered, then returned to tickle with a vengeance. "You held my face and wiped off my lips."
Buffy was free. "Thanks, Dawn."
Dawn stopped and stood by her sister. "Anytime."
Spike lay in the pool of water, half giggling, half growling at the sisters. "I'm beginning to wish that I'd never been sired. No one ever did that to me when I was human." He sat up, leaned against the fridge.
Buffy smiled. "You won Deepest Secret. Could you really hope for more?"
He snorted, then climbed to his feet. "I'll clean up the stupid water. And make pancakes."
Buffy laughed, giving him a hand to steady himself with. "I think Giles might have left some sweats here, if you wanna throw those in the dryer."
He looked at her, resigned. "Fine." He snorted again. When he thought that Buffy was out of range, he said to himself in vampiric, "*Never knew being tortured could be fun...*"
She snorted as she climbed the stairs. 'I happen to remember a trunk, Spike. And handcuffs. You've just never been tickled.'
"Not until you came along!", he yelled after her. He took a towel and began mopping up the water on the floor.
Dawn gave him a weird look, then climbed the stairs after her sister to change.
=========================================================================
Spike sat on the couch, feeling kind of dumb in Giles' old sweats, and still annoyed that he'd lost earlier.
Dawn was upstairs, passing on all her gossip about her date on the phone. Buffy came in, done with the dishes, and sat on the couch.
Spike grunted a greeting.
She smiled at his pout. "Dawn liked her pancakes."
"Yeah, yeah. She didn't even really earn 'em. I was being generous. She was supposed to help me, not you."
"She did help you, but then she found out I helped her, so she helped me."
He snorted. "I guess blood is thicker than pancake batter."
She leaned her head back on the couch, closed her eyes. "Always."
Spike glanced at her. Bloody hell. He wanted to kiss her so bad. He caught sight of the calendar in the kitchen. "Luv, you said I could *try* to kiss you, right?"
Female satisfaction took root in her body. "Try, is the operative word in that sentence."
He leaned toward her slowly.
She sighed and twisted her head to the side.
He growled and leaned back, pouting. "Huh. You couldn't have waited two more minutes to tag Dawn in? I almost had you."
She cracked one eye open. "Wow. So easily defeated."
He snorted. "I'll try again later. I'm tired now."
"So... by next, Saturday morning, you'll be able to kiss me again." She smiled, laid down on the couch, her feet in his lap. "Seven days."
He moaned.
"One hundred sixty eight hours."
A pained sound.
"Ten-thousand eighty minutes."
Pathetic whimper.
"Six-hundred and four thousand, eight hundred seconds."
He growled pitifully. As in a kitten would be more scary. "I get it already."
She curled on her side, legs still in his lap. "Just letting you know."
He laid his head back and closed his eyes, draping an arm over his forehead. "Fifteen minutes of pure fun equals a week of torture."
Sigh of contentment, a small wiggle. "Told you there'd be fallout."
No words, just a moan.
Buffy smiled. 'This is gonna be such a fun week.'
"I don't get it. I let you torture me. Not once, not twice, but FOUR times, counting this morning, and I do nothing. But you, get a little wet and *poof!*. There goes my reason for living."
She slanted her eyes at him. "One. Undead. And two, my mind, wit, body, personality and vivacious charm doesn't do it for you?" She reached for her apple lip gloss, still setting on the coffee table. Applied heavily. "Just my lips?" Smacked them together and placed the tube back on the table.
He swallowed. "No. It's everything. Lips are just one of my favorite parts, that's all."
She nibbled on the corner of her bottom lip. Pondered. "Hm."
He closed his eyes, not wanting to be too tempted.
She held in a laugh. Poor guy. Licked her lips. She did understand where he was coming from. Apple gloss was the best.
He sighed, attempting to ignore her closeness and scent. 'Maybe try going to sleep...', he thought.
Buffy chose then to squirm, attempting to find that perfect spot. Sighed contentedly as she found it.
'Ignore her, ignore her, ignore her..'
Her feet, now cold, snuck between his knees. Her breath evened out as she grew closer to sleep.
Spike heard her breathing slowing, and cracked an eye, looking at his drowsy Slayer. 'God, she's so cute..'
Eyes very droopy, she slurred, "Thank you..."
He smiled. "You're welcome, luv." He yawned, leaned back, and closed his eyes.