Disclaimers: If this were mine, Spike and Buffy would have gotten together
a long time ago. And they would be happy.
Feedback: Please, sir, I want some more.
Author's Note: This chapter was originally part of chapter six, but I figured it was too long, so I split it up. It's a little too short, but what're you going to do? Besides, it made a helluva cliffhanger. Anyway, to summarize this chapter . . . Buffy gets nosy, but what she hears might not always be what she wants. Curiosity killed the cat, you know.
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The front door clicked shut as Giles left the residence, heading for Sunnydale University. Buffy entered the living room and, after making sure that she and Spike were alone in the house, set to work.
She sat down on the couch and picked up the remote, turning on the TV and flipping channels. She waited for what she knew was coming.
"I thought we already went through this, Slayer! Just pick something!"
Buffy glanced over at the annoyed vampire and grinned slyly. "What would you like me to turn to, Spike? The Spice Channel?"
"That'd be nice." His eyes widened comically at the realization of what he'd said.
"Really? Well then, I'll just give you some alone time with your porn." Buffy picked herself up off the couch as if she was going to leave the room.
"No, I want you to stay. I . . . I like spending time with you." He shook his head in frustration. "That's not what I meant to say!"
Buffy sat back down, attempting to keep the surprise from her face. 'He likes spending time with me?'
"I thought you hated me."
"I don't hate you . . . haven't hated you as of late."
'This is just too weird.' Buffy blushed, wanting to change the subject.
"What were you like as a human?"
"Well, I guess you could say I was -" he stopped short of his answer. "Oh, no . . . the spell!" Spike glared at Buffy. "You can't do this!"
"What's stopping me?"
"It's an invasion of privacy! I'd like to think that you have more respect for me than -"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Please, Spike. If I was under a truth spell, wouldn't you do the exact same thing to me?"
"Well, of course." He clenched his eyes shut, his anger obvious. "Dammit!"
She cleared her throat. "As I was -saying-, before you so rudely interrupted; what were you like as a human?"
Spike bit his lip, desperate to keep himself from spilling the information. 'She can't find out - I'd never live it down! I can do this . . . if I have strong enough willpower, I can keep myself from talking.'
"Spike! Answer the question!"
He bit down harder, drawing blood, attempting to swallow the words that were on the tip of his tongue. He couldn't hold it in, however, and he opened his mouth to speak.
"I was a poet! An utter loser looked down on by the upper class. I was a joke - a hopeless bookworm of a nancy boy! There, are you happy?!"
Buffy's looked down to the floor, making it impossible for Spike to judge her reaction.
"A poet?"
She started to chuckle. "Spike, you were a poet?" she repeated, doubling over with laughter. "Spike . . . the Big Bad . . . a poet!" Buffy managed to gasp out in-between laughs, clutching her aching stomach.
"Yeah, yeah, yuck it up, Slayer. Wasn't so funny from my vantage point."
Buffy sniffed and wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. She glanced up at Spike, looking guilty. "I'm sorry. It's just -" She gave another giggle and Spike could tell that she wasn't sorry at all.
"I can't see it; you a poet, with the bleached hair and the leather." She smiled devilishly. "Do you still write poetry?"
"What? No!"
"Why not?"
"B-because it would . . . I'm not good at it. Besides, too many painful memories."
"Painful? Why would your memories be painful? Your poetry can't have been that bad."
Spike grinned wryly. "It -was- that bad. Anyone that tries to rhyme 'effulgent' with 'bulge in it', well -"
She chuckled. "Effulgent? Is that even a word?"
"Of course it's a -word-," Spike snorted with contempt. "It means glowing."
Buffy held her hand to her cheek in mock horror. "Oh, don't let me offend you with me ignorance, oh great poet! Please, continue to astound me with your amazing vocabulary skills!"
"Hey, don't blame me. Some of us have finished college."
Buffy glared. "And some of us aren't tied to a chair in a very vulnerable, possibly dusty position."
"Like you would," Spike scoffed.
"Try me."
He rolled his eyes. "I can't, Slayer. I've got this bloody chip in my head."
"Excuses, excuses. You couldn't beat me even if you tried. You never could."
Spike shrugged; as best one can shrug when they're tied up. "True, that."
"Would you, though?"
"Would I what?"
"Attack me if you got the chip out? I mean, would you try to kill me?"
"Of course not! I could never do that . . . I couldn't."
Buffy looked over at him, surprised. "Why not?"
"Because I love you."
Her face paled, and she put her hand up to her mouth in shock. "What?" Buffy whispered.
"I - I think . . . I think I'm in love with you, Buffy."
"No . . ." Buffy whispered, standing quickly, backing up slowly to the front door. "You can't. You're lying!"
"Truth spell, luv. Can't lie." He said, sounding a bit ashamed.
"I - I - I have to go." She turned and bolted for the door, slamming it behind her on the way out.
"Come back, Buffy! Buffy!"
Spike sighed, hanging his head in defeat.
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To be continued . . .
Feedback: Please, sir, I want some more.
Author's Note: This chapter was originally part of chapter six, but I figured it was too long, so I split it up. It's a little too short, but what're you going to do? Besides, it made a helluva cliffhanger. Anyway, to summarize this chapter . . . Buffy gets nosy, but what she hears might not always be what she wants. Curiosity killed the cat, you know.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
The front door clicked shut as Giles left the residence, heading for Sunnydale University. Buffy entered the living room and, after making sure that she and Spike were alone in the house, set to work.
She sat down on the couch and picked up the remote, turning on the TV and flipping channels. She waited for what she knew was coming.
"I thought we already went through this, Slayer! Just pick something!"
Buffy glanced over at the annoyed vampire and grinned slyly. "What would you like me to turn to, Spike? The Spice Channel?"
"That'd be nice." His eyes widened comically at the realization of what he'd said.
"Really? Well then, I'll just give you some alone time with your porn." Buffy picked herself up off the couch as if she was going to leave the room.
"No, I want you to stay. I . . . I like spending time with you." He shook his head in frustration. "That's not what I meant to say!"
Buffy sat back down, attempting to keep the surprise from her face. 'He likes spending time with me?'
"I thought you hated me."
"I don't hate you . . . haven't hated you as of late."
'This is just too weird.' Buffy blushed, wanting to change the subject.
"What were you like as a human?"
"Well, I guess you could say I was -" he stopped short of his answer. "Oh, no . . . the spell!" Spike glared at Buffy. "You can't do this!"
"What's stopping me?"
"It's an invasion of privacy! I'd like to think that you have more respect for me than -"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Please, Spike. If I was under a truth spell, wouldn't you do the exact same thing to me?"
"Well, of course." He clenched his eyes shut, his anger obvious. "Dammit!"
She cleared her throat. "As I was -saying-, before you so rudely interrupted; what were you like as a human?"
Spike bit his lip, desperate to keep himself from spilling the information. 'She can't find out - I'd never live it down! I can do this . . . if I have strong enough willpower, I can keep myself from talking.'
"Spike! Answer the question!"
He bit down harder, drawing blood, attempting to swallow the words that were on the tip of his tongue. He couldn't hold it in, however, and he opened his mouth to speak.
"I was a poet! An utter loser looked down on by the upper class. I was a joke - a hopeless bookworm of a nancy boy! There, are you happy?!"
Buffy's looked down to the floor, making it impossible for Spike to judge her reaction.
"A poet?"
She started to chuckle. "Spike, you were a poet?" she repeated, doubling over with laughter. "Spike . . . the Big Bad . . . a poet!" Buffy managed to gasp out in-between laughs, clutching her aching stomach.
"Yeah, yeah, yuck it up, Slayer. Wasn't so funny from my vantage point."
Buffy sniffed and wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. She glanced up at Spike, looking guilty. "I'm sorry. It's just -" She gave another giggle and Spike could tell that she wasn't sorry at all.
"I can't see it; you a poet, with the bleached hair and the leather." She smiled devilishly. "Do you still write poetry?"
"What? No!"
"Why not?"
"B-because it would . . . I'm not good at it. Besides, too many painful memories."
"Painful? Why would your memories be painful? Your poetry can't have been that bad."
Spike grinned wryly. "It -was- that bad. Anyone that tries to rhyme 'effulgent' with 'bulge in it', well -"
She chuckled. "Effulgent? Is that even a word?"
"Of course it's a -word-," Spike snorted with contempt. "It means glowing."
Buffy held her hand to her cheek in mock horror. "Oh, don't let me offend you with me ignorance, oh great poet! Please, continue to astound me with your amazing vocabulary skills!"
"Hey, don't blame me. Some of us have finished college."
Buffy glared. "And some of us aren't tied to a chair in a very vulnerable, possibly dusty position."
"Like you would," Spike scoffed.
"Try me."
He rolled his eyes. "I can't, Slayer. I've got this bloody chip in my head."
"Excuses, excuses. You couldn't beat me even if you tried. You never could."
Spike shrugged; as best one can shrug when they're tied up. "True, that."
"Would you, though?"
"Would I what?"
"Attack me if you got the chip out? I mean, would you try to kill me?"
"Of course not! I could never do that . . . I couldn't."
Buffy looked over at him, surprised. "Why not?"
"Because I love you."
Her face paled, and she put her hand up to her mouth in shock. "What?" Buffy whispered.
"I - I think . . . I think I'm in love with you, Buffy."
"No . . ." Buffy whispered, standing quickly, backing up slowly to the front door. "You can't. You're lying!"
"Truth spell, luv. Can't lie." He said, sounding a bit ashamed.
"I - I - I have to go." She turned and bolted for the door, slamming it behind her on the way out.
"Come back, Buffy! Buffy!"
Spike sighed, hanging his head in defeat.
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To be continued . . .