Disclaimers: If wishes were horses then beggars would ride. This isn't
mine.
Feedback: If it'll make you feel better.
Author's Note: I took a little longer with this chapter (sorry), I don't know if it has anything to do with an increase in quality, or the fact that I'm a lazy bum. Check out my new story 'Bittersweet Darkness' if you want another good Spuffy read . . . little higher on the angst factor, though. All right, this chapter is in Spike's perspective (it's also a little short, but there's a nice payoff, I swear)! Yay! All right, semi-yay, but I try to please the readers. Try being the key word.
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The dust settled and he could see Buffy staring at him, her mouth agape.
'Luv . . . love. Bad choice of words, very bad.'
"Um, Buffy. H-Hello, Buffy," Spike stammered, chastising himself mentally. 'Oh, great, now I've ruined the entrance. Stuttering, yeah, real manly, there.'
She stood still, frozen, making no attempts to move or speak. After clearing his throat, he tried again.
"Buffy?"
This got her attention, and he watched with glee as a rosy hue crept up to her cheeks. She turned her eyes to the ground, avoiding him.
"S-Spike. What are you doing here? I thought you would've left the country by now."
He chuckled sarcastically.
"Oh, don't sound so happy to see me! I was just picking up some blood from the butcher's, pet." He raised the brown bag he was carrying, heavy with plastic sacks filled with a familiar red substance. "A fellow needs to eat, y'know."
Buffy toyed with the wooden stake in her hands nervously.
"Right . . . I knew that. I - I was just, um, patrolling. As you could tell."
'Time to liven things up a bit,' Spike thought, wickedly.
"Well, you weren't doin' too good a job of it, from what I saw."
That did it. Buffy's eyes rose from the ground, meeting his. She glared at him fiercely.
"What?"
'Oh, this is going to be fun'. He raised one scarred eyebrow at her, his expression questioning.
"I mean, I come over and you're sprawled on the ground, totally helpless."
Her jaw dropped out of anger and shock at his accusations.
"Oh, that's such bull! I can handle myself."
He gave a contemptuous snort.
"Sure, Slayer, right."
Her arms were now folded across her chest defensively; she looked about a millisecond away from an eye-roll.
"I can!"
His eyes grew wide and innocent, as Spike put on his best 'Who - me?' expression.
"I agreed with you, pet. What part of 'right' don't you understand?"
"It's the way you said it. Like if I said: 'Gee, Spike, I really enjoy your company', it's obvious that I would be -"
"Telling the truth? Finally, an honest answer."
She rolled her eyes as expected, but Spike could tell that she wasn't really angry.
'She's so cute when she's frustrated'.
"Like you would know an 'honest answer' if it bit you on the -"
Before he knew what was happening, Buffy had pushed him, sending him to the ground. He quickly got to his feet again, rubbing his aching back.
"What in the bleedin' hell was that for?"
Looking over at Buffy, he noticed that she was currently doing battle with a vampire.
'That's why she pushed me? To save me from him? I don't know how to feel . . . touched that she cares, or really annoyed that she thinks I can't handle myself.'
He watched with amusement as she quickly dusted the vampire and made her way over to him.
"Are you okay? He kind of came out of nowhere . . ."
"You didn't have to protect me, you know. Just cause I can't defend myself anymore doesn't mean that I can't run away effectively. I'm not completely helpless."
Her face was a mask of confusion. "Protect you?"
"You know, the whole shoving me out of harm's way thing?"
She rolled her eyes again. "Please, I didn't shove you. You probably tripped over your own feet."
"Riiight. This, coming from the biggest klutz in history. I'm so offended."
Buffy ignored him, choosing instead to glance down at her watch. "Oh, crap, it's almost midnight. I've gotta get back in time to write my English paper." She looked back up at Spike. "It's been great catching up with you, really, but I've got to go. Take care of yourself," she said, her voice dripping with mock sincerity, "be careful that you don't trip and fall on a stake or something."
Spike found himself oddly annoyed, less at her words than at the fact that she was able to get under his skin. A wicked thought crossed his mind, as he innocently stuck his foot out in front of the passing Slayer.
'I'll show her clumsy'.
Buffy didn't see the foot in time and tripped, her arms flailing wildly. She grabbed on to Spike's duster and pulled him down onto the ground with her, using his body to break her fall. Panting unnecessarily, he looked up at her, frustrated.
"Great, so it's not enough to push me, now you have to bring me down with you. Thanks ever so."
She looked down at him, her face contorted with anger. "Well, it's your own fault. You tripped me!"
Deciding to go another route, Spike grinned at her devilishly.
"This whole 'tripping' thing is just some lame excuse to get closer to me. Admit it, already."
Blushing, she scowled at him, but made no attempt to move.
"You're one to talk! After the truth spell, how can you pretend like you don't care? This was probably your plan all along!"
"And what if it was? Would it bother you so much?"
She blushed harder, her cheeks flaming.
"Yes, it would. You being so close . . . it-it disgusts me," she finished half-heartedly.
He moved his face closer to hers, enjoying her discomfort and embarrassment.
"Deny it," he whispered, his voice low and sultry, "Tell me that you don't want it. That you aren't dying to-"
Before he could finish his sentence, Buffy's lips were on his, silencing him. After the initial shock wore off, Spike began to kiss her back, relishing the soft, warm feel of her lips and tongue. Time seemed to stand still, and after a few minutes, Buffy broke the kiss and opened her eyes. With a gasp she pulled herself off of him, shocked at what she had done.
"I -I . . . have to go . . ."
She took off running, not even bothering with a backward glance. Spike stood up, watching her go but not attempting to stop her; he knew it would do more harm than good. He fumbled with the duster pockets, searching for a cigarette.
'Why is she always leaving just when things get good?'
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
To be continued . . .
A/N: Yay for smoochies! Told you they'd be coming! Next chapter, see Buffy's reaction to the kiss.
Feedback: If it'll make you feel better.
Author's Note: I took a little longer with this chapter (sorry), I don't know if it has anything to do with an increase in quality, or the fact that I'm a lazy bum. Check out my new story 'Bittersweet Darkness' if you want another good Spuffy read . . . little higher on the angst factor, though. All right, this chapter is in Spike's perspective (it's also a little short, but there's a nice payoff, I swear)! Yay! All right, semi-yay, but I try to please the readers. Try being the key word.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
The dust settled and he could see Buffy staring at him, her mouth agape.
'Luv . . . love. Bad choice of words, very bad.'
"Um, Buffy. H-Hello, Buffy," Spike stammered, chastising himself mentally. 'Oh, great, now I've ruined the entrance. Stuttering, yeah, real manly, there.'
She stood still, frozen, making no attempts to move or speak. After clearing his throat, he tried again.
"Buffy?"
This got her attention, and he watched with glee as a rosy hue crept up to her cheeks. She turned her eyes to the ground, avoiding him.
"S-Spike. What are you doing here? I thought you would've left the country by now."
He chuckled sarcastically.
"Oh, don't sound so happy to see me! I was just picking up some blood from the butcher's, pet." He raised the brown bag he was carrying, heavy with plastic sacks filled with a familiar red substance. "A fellow needs to eat, y'know."
Buffy toyed with the wooden stake in her hands nervously.
"Right . . . I knew that. I - I was just, um, patrolling. As you could tell."
'Time to liven things up a bit,' Spike thought, wickedly.
"Well, you weren't doin' too good a job of it, from what I saw."
That did it. Buffy's eyes rose from the ground, meeting his. She glared at him fiercely.
"What?"
'Oh, this is going to be fun'. He raised one scarred eyebrow at her, his expression questioning.
"I mean, I come over and you're sprawled on the ground, totally helpless."
Her jaw dropped out of anger and shock at his accusations.
"Oh, that's such bull! I can handle myself."
He gave a contemptuous snort.
"Sure, Slayer, right."
Her arms were now folded across her chest defensively; she looked about a millisecond away from an eye-roll.
"I can!"
His eyes grew wide and innocent, as Spike put on his best 'Who - me?' expression.
"I agreed with you, pet. What part of 'right' don't you understand?"
"It's the way you said it. Like if I said: 'Gee, Spike, I really enjoy your company', it's obvious that I would be -"
"Telling the truth? Finally, an honest answer."
She rolled her eyes as expected, but Spike could tell that she wasn't really angry.
'She's so cute when she's frustrated'.
"Like you would know an 'honest answer' if it bit you on the -"
Before he knew what was happening, Buffy had pushed him, sending him to the ground. He quickly got to his feet again, rubbing his aching back.
"What in the bleedin' hell was that for?"
Looking over at Buffy, he noticed that she was currently doing battle with a vampire.
'That's why she pushed me? To save me from him? I don't know how to feel . . . touched that she cares, or really annoyed that she thinks I can't handle myself.'
He watched with amusement as she quickly dusted the vampire and made her way over to him.
"Are you okay? He kind of came out of nowhere . . ."
"You didn't have to protect me, you know. Just cause I can't defend myself anymore doesn't mean that I can't run away effectively. I'm not completely helpless."
Her face was a mask of confusion. "Protect you?"
"You know, the whole shoving me out of harm's way thing?"
She rolled her eyes again. "Please, I didn't shove you. You probably tripped over your own feet."
"Riiight. This, coming from the biggest klutz in history. I'm so offended."
Buffy ignored him, choosing instead to glance down at her watch. "Oh, crap, it's almost midnight. I've gotta get back in time to write my English paper." She looked back up at Spike. "It's been great catching up with you, really, but I've got to go. Take care of yourself," she said, her voice dripping with mock sincerity, "be careful that you don't trip and fall on a stake or something."
Spike found himself oddly annoyed, less at her words than at the fact that she was able to get under his skin. A wicked thought crossed his mind, as he innocently stuck his foot out in front of the passing Slayer.
'I'll show her clumsy'.
Buffy didn't see the foot in time and tripped, her arms flailing wildly. She grabbed on to Spike's duster and pulled him down onto the ground with her, using his body to break her fall. Panting unnecessarily, he looked up at her, frustrated.
"Great, so it's not enough to push me, now you have to bring me down with you. Thanks ever so."
She looked down at him, her face contorted with anger. "Well, it's your own fault. You tripped me!"
Deciding to go another route, Spike grinned at her devilishly.
"This whole 'tripping' thing is just some lame excuse to get closer to me. Admit it, already."
Blushing, she scowled at him, but made no attempt to move.
"You're one to talk! After the truth spell, how can you pretend like you don't care? This was probably your plan all along!"
"And what if it was? Would it bother you so much?"
She blushed harder, her cheeks flaming.
"Yes, it would. You being so close . . . it-it disgusts me," she finished half-heartedly.
He moved his face closer to hers, enjoying her discomfort and embarrassment.
"Deny it," he whispered, his voice low and sultry, "Tell me that you don't want it. That you aren't dying to-"
Before he could finish his sentence, Buffy's lips were on his, silencing him. After the initial shock wore off, Spike began to kiss her back, relishing the soft, warm feel of her lips and tongue. Time seemed to stand still, and after a few minutes, Buffy broke the kiss and opened her eyes. With a gasp she pulled herself off of him, shocked at what she had done.
"I -I . . . have to go . . ."
She took off running, not even bothering with a backward glance. Spike stood up, watching her go but not attempting to stop her; he knew it would do more harm than good. He fumbled with the duster pockets, searching for a cigarette.
'Why is she always leaving just when things get good?'
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
To be continued . . .
A/N: Yay for smoochies! Told you they'd be coming! Next chapter, see Buffy's reaction to the kiss.