***
She was so angry she thought her head would explode as she knocked harshly on the wooden door of the place containing the by now - in her head - already destroyed bathroom. There was no answer and she suddenly realized Giles had said he'd be out late on a field-trip to God knew where.
Well, then her secret weapon would have to suffice: the extra key Giles had given her incase there was a fire and she felt the sudden compulsive urge to save some of his belongings. Well, those - or the poor, defenseless vampire chained to the pipes in the back, perhaps.
"Oy, back so soon?" there was that infuriating voice from the bathroom, indeed. "Well, I TOLD you you'd bloody come out empty handed - that sight's been the harvest place for Burba weed for ages and I tell you, once those boys doing the digging and the weeding gets started it's sodding farewell to anything that isn't what they need."
She clenched her jaws together as she grabbed her stake and walked through the living room and up to the bathroom door.
"Awfully quiet there tonight, mate. Usually you've told me to please, be quiet at least a dozen times by now. Ah, guess the little trip got you into a bad state of mind, eh? Well, sod it if I care. All the better for me, you won't gag me then. Eh? I can sing all night and..."
At this point Buffy had turned the knob of the door and now she pushed it open as she stepped inside, stake raised in one hand.
"Well, bugger me," he grumbled, staring at the weapon and the absolutely furious gaze burning in her eyes.
He swallowed hard, moving his arms and trying to break free from chains he had been struggling with for the past week and to no avail. They held him too tightly and he could barely move where he was, much less fend off an extremely pissed Slayer.
Then something dawned on him and he couldn't kill the smirk before it grew onto his lips despite the growing anxiety that this might really be it.
"So, you've had a run-in with the blokes, have you?" he asked and she swallowed hard, her eyes narrowing as she stopped by his side, glaring down at him. "Guess you did a pretty number on them, too, if you're standing here and they're not. Ah well, carpe diem and all that crap, right? Sorry, but what the hell 'd ya expect? That I'd just sit here like another nice and house-broken little PUPPY?!"
He exclaimed the last as a sudden anger started up inside of him as well. Anger and disbelief at him, HIM, sitting exposed and vulnerable before this human GIRL! His continuing existence at the tip of that peice of wood she held so tightly in one hand, in the swirl of rage that kept ripping those green eyes of hers.
"I hate you," she stated, voice low and trembling as she slowly lowered the stake.
"Yeah, well," he murmured. "I'm not too bloody fond of you either. If I had my way I never would've come back here, you know? That stupid gem! God! 'Cause of it I've been crippled out of my bleeding nature! I HATE this sodding town almost as much as I hate the sight of you as soon as I bloody move or breathe."
"You don't breathe," she remarked dryly and he cocked an eyebrow.
Then he drew a deep breath of air.
"Don't I?" he asked and she glared at him.
"If you ever try to pull a stunt like this again," she said, voice low as she leaned down to put her face before his. "I swear the last thing you'll ever see is me. Would that REALLY be your preferred way of leaving this world?"
He eyed her with such sudden hatred that she smiled, reaching up a hand and patting his cheek condescendingly.
"Poor Spikey. 'Crippled out of your nature', though?" she then asked, straightening her back again as she crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head a little quiestioningly to the side as she added: "Wasn't killing me the only thing that occupied your thoughts for the whole entire, pathetic excuse for a time you ever spent here? Well, except the occasional set-back in worshipping your crazed ex, of course." At that he pulled at the chains and leered up at her, which merely broadened her smile as she cheekily continued: "So then, you're not REALLY crippled out of your nature, are you? No." She sunk down on her knees to rest her arms leisurly against the side of the tub as she batted her eyes innocently at him: "'Cause you're still failing as miserably as ever at trying to do just that - kill me. Face it, Spike. You're never gonna pull it off. You just love to hate me way too much. You CAN'T kill me!"
He stared at her at that, his face cut in stone and his eyes so cold it almost sent a shiver down her spine.
"And why is it that I'm not a pile of dust right now?" he shot back, raising his eyebrows as his eyes didn't leave hers for a moment. "Could it be 'cause the almighty Slayer's finally found a real enemy to fight, instead of those dreary everyday fledgelings or those surprising and often bloody horrific little monsters she seems to run into from time to time? Could it be 'cause she just likes the challenge way too much to have it just go away, as easy as the bringing down of an arm? Could it be that she's speaking for herself? You just love to hate ME way too much, SLAYER. You sodding can't kill ME."
His head had moved forward as he spoke, her jaws clenching hard together as she met his gaze and when he made his closing argument he sunk back - seemingly extremely satisfied with himself.
"You're a pig, Spike," she stated and now he smirked again.
"What does that make you?" he retorted and she gave him a look before she rose to her feet.
He furrowed his brow.
"Where you going?" he asked. "The kitchen? Get me a snack while you're at it!"
"If you for one moment think that I'm gonna do anything for you in any way," she said, turning in the doorway and facing him as she added: "you're just more of an idiot than I thought."
"Buffy, don't be like that. Just 'cause I wanna kill you doesn't mean you have to be childish and do the same thing to me - letting me STARVE to death! Or more to death... Or into a sodding living skelleton!" he called out as she simply turned and left. "I promise I'll never, ever, EVER try to talk anyone else into killing you!" he assured, adding under his breath: "Except, of course, demons and gauls and the nasties of the world. But they're not 'anyones', they're not even 'ones'. They have no soules."
"I can hear you, you moron!" she stated, sticking her head back in the room and he rolled his eyes to the ceiling.
"Bloody hell," he murmured.
"You know, you're not even the slightest shaken up about me almost making you go the big old 'poof'," she said now, coming back into the room with a mug and his eyes grew at the sight of it. "I'm just wondering why that is," she added, walking up to the side of the tub to sit on the edge of it, facing him as she held the mug teasingly close to his mouth so that he could smell the blood in it.
"Like I said," he answered, stretching his neck to look into the mug and then up at her as he finished: "What fun would it be for you to kill me like this? All chained up and... Let me have some of that."
She smiled.
"What, this?" she asked, moving the mug slightly so that the blood began to swirl in it as she looked down, then she wrinkled her nose. "You hungry?" she then wondered and his eyes grew very close to pleading as he nodded. "Aw, what should we do about it? Starve you to death IS an option," she nodded. "But what fun would it be if you were a rattling heap of bones, right? Giles wouldn't like it, I'm sure. He'd never get ANY sleep with the racket you'd make in here."
"So... one sip? One teeny, tiny...?" the vampire asked, and she smiled again.
"Alright," she nodded, reaching out the mug to him and then it "accidently" slipped out of her grip, falling into the tub by his side and the blood spilling out. "Oh! Oups," she sighed, then shrugged as she got to her feet.
Spike bit his lower lip as he struggled to get into a position in which he could somehow reach the valuable substance, but there was no use. Finally he let out a harsh growl, raising his head and meeting the amused eyes of the Slayer.
"Bitch," he scowled and her smile widened.
"That's twice one of your kind calls me that this evening, and it really breaks my heart," she stated, turning and leaving the room.
"I hate you!" he screamed and she laughed.
After a short while she came back into the room, walking up to him she said:
"I'm leaving now. Think of the blood as just my token of saying thanks for the work-out I got tonight. Fledgelings may be low on the IQ-chart, but at least they know how to defend themselves." Once more leaning down she put her head an inch from his as she added: "Guess it must be that primeval, animalistic core that runs through all of you that just comes to the surface at a time like that - fighting, I mean - and it just screams survive no matter what. Well, I just thought the smell of food might make you unable to think of anything BUT food... and that's exactly what I'd like for you. All. Night. Long."
He bit his jaws together, meeting her eyes defyingly.
Buffy looked at him with as much loathing as he did and then there was a small twitch somewhere and she held his gaze for a second before her own travelled down to his mouth. Frowning she looked back into his eyes and then she blinked.
Spike furrowed his brow. There was another feeling on her, he just couldn't pinpoint it for some reason. And she seemed just as bewildered by it as she pulled away, straightening her back and then shaking her head a little.
"I'm leaving," she now said coldly.
"I won't follow," he assured and she gave him a look to shut up and then she turned and for the third time left the room.
Spike tried to ignore the smell of the blood, but it was too strong. Glancing down he could see it staining the white porcelain of the tub and he sighed. Then his eyes caught on something else and they grew as he quickly reached out his hand and snatched it up.
Buffy closed the front door and reached into her jacket-pocket to bring her set of keys out. Only they weren't there. Frowning with a sudden rush of discomfort down her spine she opened the door again, walked through it and found herself almost running back into the bathroom.
The bathtub was empty.
He can't hurt me, she calmed herself as she looked around the room and then turned, taking a careful step out into the hall by the kitchen. He's spelled...or something, and so he can't hurt me.
"Oh, Spikey," she called. "Where'd you think you're going, huh? You can't hunt... can't kill... can't hurt anyone really. What are you gonna do? You came here to get help, right?"
"That's right," he answered, slowly emerging from the shadows to her left and she whipped her head around as she stared at him, surprised though she struggled not to show it. "I came for help and got chains and hardly any bloody food and almost starving and oh, the treat of seeing you every bloody day!"
"You're COMPLAINING?!" she exclaimed, facing him. "You get to watch 'Passions' all day long, you get us to heat your disgusting breakfast, lunch and dinner and you haven't given us any real information about anything that you said you would and we still haven't pushed you out the door into the goddamn sunlight and you're COMPLAINING?!"
"So, I complain. What are you gonna do 'bout it?" he asked and she huffed.
"I'm gonna tie you up," she retorted and he cocked an eyebrow.
"What'd the poofster say if he caught us?" he asked and she frowned uncomprehendingly, and then the penny dropped and her eyes widened slightly at that.
"You're such a..."
"Pig," he filled in. "Yeah, yeah. But you're NOT gonna tie me up," he added.
"Oh, really?" she asked and he nodded. "And why's that?"
"'Cause I'm gonna fight you over this," he answered simply and she cocked an eyebrow.
"Oh, really?" she repeated. "Well, make your move."
He tilted his head a little to one side and then he hit her hard over the cheek with his right fist. She let out an "ao!" where he let out a scream of pain as his hands went to his head.
Three minutes later he was bound tightly to a chair. Rope was around his wrists, binding his arms to the arms of the chair; and rope was around his ankles, binding his legs to the legs of the chair.
"Wonderful," he grumbled as Buffy took another bite on the apple she had gotten for herself, seated on the couch and facing him she had been observing him with a somewhat thoughtful expression for nearly a minute.
Her munching was however exceedingly more annoying than her eyeing of him and finally he had had enough.
"If you don't stop that damn chewing I'll jump this chair over to you and somehow find a way to bite your tongue off, understand?" he growled and she raised her eyebrows slightly, her jaws pausing for a moment and then starting up again.
"Points for vivid picturing," she remarked. "But not for the threat part. Sorry, but you're kinda not in the position to make any of that nature right now. Are you?"
He glared at her harshly and then looked away.
"So bloody humiliating," he grumbled, shaking his head. "If I wasn't... like this I'd bloody rip this place apart, as well as your precious little Gang."
"You've already tried that," she pointed out sharply. "Didn't work. And once again with the not in a threat-making kind of position here," she added.
"Why don't you ask that little Riley pal of yours to come baby-sit me sometime? I'm sure a mortal could 've bunches to learn from someone... NOT mortal," Spike continued, unbashful before the fact that the Slayer having the upper hand for the moment had just told him to back off from the subject. "I mean, from what I hear you like the bloke... Why not introduce him to your very own little nemesis, all tucked away safe at your Watcher's place, eh? What, you think he couldn't stomach it? Do you think he could ever take the fact of you being the Slayer? How were you planning on telling him, by the way?"
Buffy got to her feet, gaze shooting daggers as she walked up to him and pressed the half-eaten apple inbetween his lips.
"Don't you ever shut up?" she asked and he smiled, spitting the apple out.
"Well," he smirked. "Guess I hit the spot with that one."
Buffy stared at him, at the juice of the apple slowly sliding down from his mouth to his chin and before she knew what she was doing she had leaned forward, opened her mouth and let her tounge lap it up.
"What the bloody hell?!" Spike exclaimed, completely taken off guard by the sudden sensation of the warmth of it sliding over his cool skin and then he turned his head, his eyes in hers and his grew slightly at the sudden expression in them.
Before he had any chance at reacting her head moved forward and her lips met his. The feel of her tongue once more, as it slid out to part his lips, made him respond without thinking and the sudden need to let his own play with it became maddening. Then the kiss deepened and she moaned, her hands going up to place themselves behind his neck as she kissed him harder.
However, in the next moment she pulled away from him with an exclamation of disgusted disbelief, taking three steps back and away from him as her chest heaved with her heavy breathing; her heart racing in her chest. She stared at him and he returned it, eyes wide and wondering as well as appalled.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?!" he asked and she swallowed, shaking her head.
"Don't say...anything," she demanded and he raised his eyebrows.
"I bloody well WILL say whatever the sod I want!" he disagreed. "I'm not the one who just... What the bloody hell did you just do?! You were... you actually just..."
"Shut up," she grumbled, taking another step back. "It was just some... temporary insanity... I mean, I NEVER would WANT to...do what I just did," she added, her eyes going to his mouth again and her body slowly growing warmer at the fresh memory of the feel of it against her own.
"I'd bleeding well say so," he nodded, his blue eyes still rather round as he eyed her.
"Hey, you kissed me back!" she remarked and he cocked an eyebrow.
"Don't TELL me you're gonna act up on the matter," he retorted and she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Why don't you just stop talking? Or better yet, tell me where the hell the keys are so I can put you back in your chains and get the hell outta here?"
He smirked at that, leaning back in the chair as he answered:
"They're somewhere on me... Guess you'll just have to frisk me."
She narrowed her eyes agitatedly, clenching her hands together into fists as she felt her entire body drive her to take those few steps up to him. It was that urge that was holding her back. She'd never felt anything like it in her entire life, the growing longing spreading throughout her.
"Tell me where they are," she requested, voice low and what she hoped - threatening.
"They're in the right-hand side pocket of my jeans," he answered her with a small trace of the smirk still on his lips as he tried to move his arms meaningfully, adding: "I WOULD give them to you myself, but I seem to be a little tied up at the moment."
She glared at him, pulling out her entire stock of self-control as she slowly approached him.
Spike watched the tension in her posture, trying desperately to ignore the still lingering and absolutely intoxicating feeling of her warm skin against his cold, of her strong and forceful tongue as it battled with his and wanting to discard the still lingering desire that had rosen like a clawing panther in his chest as her hair had fallen over her shoulder to brush against his cheek.
Now she stopped in front of him, once more bending forward and reaching out her right arm to dig her hand into the pocket he had named as the keeper of her ticket out of this nightmare. Because that really was all it was...a sheer nightmare.
Feeling that it was empty she closed her eyes briefly in impatience and then raised her gaze to his, her heart skipping a beat as she realized their faces were too close for comfort. He bit his lower lip slightly and she drew a small, shaky breath - the last of her willpower leaving her as she closed her eyes and moved her head forward again.
Their lips connected and she immediately deepened the kiss as she moved to get to putting her knees up on either side of his thighs: straddling him. Wrapping her arms around his neck she pressed herself to him and he struggled to get his own arms free.
Pulling his mouth from hers she opened her eyes, looking at him with a desire that almost knocked him over - the craving of her already burning him up from the inside.
"Untie me," he demanded and she shook her head, kissing him again. But he pulled away, giving her a look as he repeated: "Untie me."
"No," she said.
They shared a long glance and then they once more joined in an equally long kiss. He broke it once more, holding her eyes with his as he now murmured:
"Untie me, Slayer... I want to touch you."
At that she kissed him hard on the mouth and then slid down onto the floor, reaching up her hands to do as he asked, working on the peice of rope tying up his right wrist. When it loosened he moved his hand and grabbed a hold on the back of her head by means of a fist full of blonde locks. She let out a low "ah" and then looked up at him as he pulled her to him again.
Her whole body was throbbing now and as she once more straddled him, their lips locking harshly together and their tongues playing games with the other, her heat grew at the feel of his hand moving out of her hair to slide down her back. Slipping around her waist and sliding under the hem of her top it continued up her stomach before taking a hold on her left breast and she gasped.
"Spike," she moaned, opening her eyes to meet his.
His thumb slid over her hard nipple and her gaze grew dimmed with wanting before her hands slid up and held his face. She leaned forward and kissed him fervently. Her right hand slid down over his shoulder, further down his left arm to the rope still tying it. Feeling her yanking at the knot Spike began to pull his arm to him and with their combined strength the robe broke with a low snap and his left hand went into her hair as he pressed her to him.
Her mouth left his to travel down over the crook of his neck and he closed his eyes at the feeling of her lips and the tracing of her tongue over his skin. He was going crazy. Foreplay was something he was all for - but this was excrutiating.
"I want you..." she whispered, her mouth moving up to his left ear and her lips nibbling at his earlobe as she added: "I wanna feel you inside of me."
At that the absolute last sense of control over himself flew right out of him and his lips crashed against hers violently. He grabbed her as he got to his feet, forgetting that he was still tied to the chair with both legs and loosing his balance his mouth was torn from hers and he let out a cry of surprise as they tumbled to the floor. The chair tilted over with a bang and he found himself partially lying on the Slayer and partially on the floor.
Buffy suddenly giggled, a playfulness in her gaze as she met his that he had never seen in them before.
"Spikey," she sighed. "You're not gonna let that stop you... are you?"
He smirked, leaning down over her and brushing his lips against hers before he kissed her deeply once more. Her arms wrapping themselves around his neck as she let out a low groan, moving one leg to place it over his.
His hands travelled over her body and then they grabbed a hold on her shirt, with one light tear he ripped it open and she opened her eyes at the feel of her suddenly exposed breasts against the fabric of his black T. She could feel the taut and absolutely too tempting muscles underneath it and she pulled her lips away from his as her hands grabbed at it and then pulled it over his head with force.
"Get me loose," he demanded and she nodded, about to sit up to get to his ankles, only his head moved forward - stopping her - and she drew a shaking breath as his lips travelled over her right breast before parting and taking the nipple in his mouth.
Her hands flung up to grasp his head and she tilted her own back as the throbbing for him seemed to climax. Then she pulled away from him, kissing him hard once more before quickly crawling over to the chair. Ripping at the knots she got his left leg loose and he sat up just as the right one gave way as well.
"There you-..." she started, turning to him, but he threw himself over her and made her fall backwards - cutting the sentence short.
Her legs parted to give him room, bending at the knees as she put them on either side of him and their hips ground together, making them both gasp before kissing almost desperately again.
Buffy's hands glided over the muscles of his back and then over his waist as she moved them to the clasp of his belt. Beginning to shakily get it undone as his mouth slid away from hers and travelled over her throat.
"Buffy..." he grumbled, kissing the place of her jugular and resting his lips against the soft thumping of her rapid pulse.
She finally got the belt open and her fingers easily worked the button of his jeans and as it slipped free she rolled them both around before once more straddling him. He looked up at her questioningly as she rose to her feet and then she bent down, grabbing the pants' legs and tugging them off of him.
Once it was done he lay splayed before her on the floor completely naked and her eyes grew slightly as she swallowed, her eyes taking all of him in and then she wet her lips.
He was hers to have.
He got to his feet slowly, facing her and she felt like she had trouble breathing as he stepped closer to her and then he bent forward to trace her collar bone with his tongue. Once more she closed her eyes, her whole body beginning to tremble something terrible and her hands journeyed up his arms to place themselves on his shoulders.
His hands went to her waist and then they slid along the hem of her pants to the button of them. He got it open, sliding them down and sinking to his knees before her as she stepped out of them. He threw them aside - his hands now sliding up her thighs and she let out a small noise of anticipation as his fingers slid underneath the fabric of her panties. She was breathing hard by now and he looked up at her, holding her eyes before grabbing the fabric and - as easily as the shirt - ripping it apart.
He placed a kiss right below her bellybutton and then he rose to his feet, grabbing her under the arms to swirl her around and throw her onto the couch.
He was on her before she had registered the feel of the soft cushion below her back and the weight of him, the coolness of his skin against the fiercly hot of hers and the feel of him between her legs made her whole body ache for more.
His lips met hers in another devouring kiss and she wrapped her arms around his neck. And then he moved his hips forward, sliding into her and her eyes opened wide as she tore her mouth from his and drew a sharp breath. Her arms moved and her nails raked down over his shoulderblades as the orgasm the mere act of penetration had rocked her body with kept coursing through her.
"Oh," she gasped as he started moving inside of her and she wrapped her legs around his waist as the wave of pleasure refused to seize.
Spike struggled hard to keep from quivering at the inclination that holding her in his arms, that feeling her wanting him, that being deep within her was something he could crave as much as he was doing it right that very moment. It was as though he was flying in space and nothing else seemed to matter even the slightest anymore, except that feeling of floating; of this freedom which had him in utter bondage to the feel of her.
She was moaning beneath him as their bodies moved together and he swallowed as he looked down at her closed eyes, at the small wrinkle between her eyebrows, at her lips slightly parted as she kept breathing hard. He leaned his head down and kissed her deeply. She responded immidiately as she arched her back; her hands sliding into his hair.
The feeling inside of him was scaring the hell out of him and he pulled his mouth away, shaking his head.
"This is...wrong," he murmured and she looked up at him, eyes glazed with the feeling still raging through her and she drew a sharp breath before she mumbled:
"Later."
"Slayer..." he grumbled and she pushed his head down, smothering his voice with her tongue.
Taking his mouth from hers he groaned. He was close and the sensation was ripping him apart. He had never felt anything like it throughout his long existence and he almost whimpered when he peaked the mountain, his head sinking down and resting against the side of her throat as they slowed down their movements.
"I hate you," he stated, voice weak and Buffy licked her lips - her body still in tremors.
"Not even close to...how much I...hate you," she mumbled.
He brushed his lips against the soft skin of her throat and then raised his head to look down at her. She met his gaze with one beginning to grow close to the stern one she seemed to always adopt around him. He suddenly smirked. Her eyes almost bore a hint of warning at the sight of it and then she squirmed under him and the motion made him grow hard once more, still inside of her.
Her eyes widened and the warning had to submit to the one of need.
"This is..." she began, but he filled in the last word for her as he said:
"Wrong," and then leaned forward, kissing her harshly and a low moan rose out of her throat as she wrapped her arms around his neck again, tightly.
***
Four and a half hours later Buffy secured the last of the locks on the heavy chains confiding him to the bathtub and then she straightened her back, looking down at him with as much incredulous disbelief as he was eyeing her with.
"Not a bloody word," he grumbled, turning his head away.
"You think I'm gonna run to Willow and tell her about the hours of mindless sharing of bodily fluids I just spent with the vampire I loathe? 'Mindless' being the VERY opporative word in that sentence," she shot, crossing her arms over her chest with her eyebrows rising quizzically and he glared back up at her at that.
"I meant now, here, to me. And now that's all shot to hell, thank you very much," he muttered and she shook her head at him.
"I can't BELIEVE I even let you touch me! I'm so disgusted with myself right now I can't even..." she trailed off, shuddering with discomfort as she observed him. "I feel all... dirty," she grumbled and at that he cocked an eyebrow before his eyes got a dangerous gleam in them as he slowly suggested:
"You can always wash off," and then glanced meaningfully above him at the shower head. "I'd be happy to h-... Bloody hell! What the bugger 's wrong with me?!" he growled, once more shooting her a killing look and she bit her jaws together before she reached for her jacket, slung over the side of the tub.
One button had been left in the middle of her shirt as the rest had been torn from the fabric and she was grateful for that. Though she made sure to zip the jacket up thouroughly before she gave him a look.
"We NEVER mention this again," she stated and he raised his eyebrows.
"You think I'm gonna run tell all my little vamp mates that I did the Slayer?" he asked, mimicking her previous choice of words, and then he got a thoughtful look on his face before adding: "Actually..."
She moved up to him, leaning over him as she said:
"Spike, if you tell anyone - ANYONE - about what happened tonight, I SWEAR to you: I will kill you."
He tilted his head a little to one side as he grew deadly serious, then he gave a small nod.
"Right," he replied before he moved his head forward, his lips meeting hers and she met his kiss as her hands went up to press his mouth harder to hers.
"Spike," she mumbled, lips still to his. "I've gotta go..."
"Mhm," he mumbled, deepening the kiss again and she relished in the feel of his tongue.
"No," she murmured, still not able to resist moving her mouth and biting his lower lip, the low moan from him turning her right back on and it made her get a hold on herself as she pulled away from him. "I REALLY have to go," she added, not looking at him she turned away and walked up to the door.
"Buffy," he said and she stopped in the doorway, refusing to turn around. "'Night," he added and she closed her eyes briefly before nodding a little.
"Good night," she agreed, walking out of the room and up to the front door.
Just as she reached for the knob the rattle of a key chain made her freeze and then she grabbed the knob, turned it and met Giles' surprised gaze.
"Buffy, good heavens!" he said. "For a moment I thought Spike had managed to tear himself free. I'm happy to see I was wrong," he added, stepping in through the door as she nodded rather twitchily.
Turning her head her eyes grew slightly as she suddenly was painfully aware of just how messed up Giles' living room was. The couch was tilted over, the chair Spike had been tied to was also still on the floor, the coffeetable was moved from its original position to stand to the Slayer's left and the carpet was in more of a heap than anything else.
"Oh, dear Lord," the Watcher now breathed, dropping his duffle bag to the floor as he stared at the scene. "What happened? Was there bad... men?"
Buffy swallowed, meeting his gaze, then she nodded.
"Well... There was just ONE...man," she then answered, voice wavering. "But he is VERY bad," she then added, her eyes widening just a bit before she quickly corrected herself by saying: "I mean, he WAS very bad."
"Oh, goodness," Giles grumbled. "Well, did he get what he came for or did you manage to stop him?" he asked and the Slayer's gaze drifted to the floor for a moment before she answered:
"Well, I tried to... but he was really...strong."
Giles nodded.
"I can see that," he said, observing her. "Looks like he roughed you up."
Her cheeks grew a few degrees warmer at that and then she nodded slowly.
"So... let's see what he took, shall we?" Giles now suggested and Buffy watched him walk over to one of his bookshelves.
She tried desperately to come up with a good explanation for the lack of anything missing.
"I scared him off," she finally blurted out. "He-he ran away. That way," she then added, pointing to the hall leading to the bathroom and bedroom and Giles raised his eyebrows. "I don't think he was expecting...company," she added silently and Giles looked at her with a rather searching expression for a moment before he said:
"Good. That's very good. Whatever it was that he wanted it couldn't possibly have been anything in here... He must have simply mistaken this apartment for another."
Buffy nodded.
"Yep. Yep, yep." She hesitated and then she smiled before adding: "I really need to get home. School and all... But, I'll see you tomorrow. Or - today, I guess. Bye."
And with that she swiftly left.
Giles frowned before getting himself moving to the bathroom doorway. The vampire seemed to be sleeping easily enough. Or heavily enough, when it came to this particular vamp. Giles shrugged to himself and walked back into the living room to start the clean-up.
Spike opened his eyes, looking at the now empty doorway before closing them again and picturing Buffy's dazed expression as he made her feel the same things as she made him feel, those incredible sensations never even brushed up against before.
Then he pushed that away. This was -after all - the most hated being ever to cross his path. And he hated her so much. He really did. He hated her so much it scorched his chest.
For leaving.
She was so angry she thought her head would explode as she knocked harshly on the wooden door of the place containing the by now - in her head - already destroyed bathroom. There was no answer and she suddenly realized Giles had said he'd be out late on a field-trip to God knew where.
Well, then her secret weapon would have to suffice: the extra key Giles had given her incase there was a fire and she felt the sudden compulsive urge to save some of his belongings. Well, those - or the poor, defenseless vampire chained to the pipes in the back, perhaps.
"Oy, back so soon?" there was that infuriating voice from the bathroom, indeed. "Well, I TOLD you you'd bloody come out empty handed - that sight's been the harvest place for Burba weed for ages and I tell you, once those boys doing the digging and the weeding gets started it's sodding farewell to anything that isn't what they need."
She clenched her jaws together as she grabbed her stake and walked through the living room and up to the bathroom door.
"Awfully quiet there tonight, mate. Usually you've told me to please, be quiet at least a dozen times by now. Ah, guess the little trip got you into a bad state of mind, eh? Well, sod it if I care. All the better for me, you won't gag me then. Eh? I can sing all night and..."
At this point Buffy had turned the knob of the door and now she pushed it open as she stepped inside, stake raised in one hand.
"Well, bugger me," he grumbled, staring at the weapon and the absolutely furious gaze burning in her eyes.
He swallowed hard, moving his arms and trying to break free from chains he had been struggling with for the past week and to no avail. They held him too tightly and he could barely move where he was, much less fend off an extremely pissed Slayer.
Then something dawned on him and he couldn't kill the smirk before it grew onto his lips despite the growing anxiety that this might really be it.
"So, you've had a run-in with the blokes, have you?" he asked and she swallowed hard, her eyes narrowing as she stopped by his side, glaring down at him. "Guess you did a pretty number on them, too, if you're standing here and they're not. Ah well, carpe diem and all that crap, right? Sorry, but what the hell 'd ya expect? That I'd just sit here like another nice and house-broken little PUPPY?!"
He exclaimed the last as a sudden anger started up inside of him as well. Anger and disbelief at him, HIM, sitting exposed and vulnerable before this human GIRL! His continuing existence at the tip of that peice of wood she held so tightly in one hand, in the swirl of rage that kept ripping those green eyes of hers.
"I hate you," she stated, voice low and trembling as she slowly lowered the stake.
"Yeah, well," he murmured. "I'm not too bloody fond of you either. If I had my way I never would've come back here, you know? That stupid gem! God! 'Cause of it I've been crippled out of my bleeding nature! I HATE this sodding town almost as much as I hate the sight of you as soon as I bloody move or breathe."
"You don't breathe," she remarked dryly and he cocked an eyebrow.
Then he drew a deep breath of air.
"Don't I?" he asked and she glared at him.
"If you ever try to pull a stunt like this again," she said, voice low as she leaned down to put her face before his. "I swear the last thing you'll ever see is me. Would that REALLY be your preferred way of leaving this world?"
He eyed her with such sudden hatred that she smiled, reaching up a hand and patting his cheek condescendingly.
"Poor Spikey. 'Crippled out of your nature', though?" she then asked, straightening her back again as she crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head a little quiestioningly to the side as she added: "Wasn't killing me the only thing that occupied your thoughts for the whole entire, pathetic excuse for a time you ever spent here? Well, except the occasional set-back in worshipping your crazed ex, of course." At that he pulled at the chains and leered up at her, which merely broadened her smile as she cheekily continued: "So then, you're not REALLY crippled out of your nature, are you? No." She sunk down on her knees to rest her arms leisurly against the side of the tub as she batted her eyes innocently at him: "'Cause you're still failing as miserably as ever at trying to do just that - kill me. Face it, Spike. You're never gonna pull it off. You just love to hate me way too much. You CAN'T kill me!"
He stared at her at that, his face cut in stone and his eyes so cold it almost sent a shiver down her spine.
"And why is it that I'm not a pile of dust right now?" he shot back, raising his eyebrows as his eyes didn't leave hers for a moment. "Could it be 'cause the almighty Slayer's finally found a real enemy to fight, instead of those dreary everyday fledgelings or those surprising and often bloody horrific little monsters she seems to run into from time to time? Could it be 'cause she just likes the challenge way too much to have it just go away, as easy as the bringing down of an arm? Could it be that she's speaking for herself? You just love to hate ME way too much, SLAYER. You sodding can't kill ME."
His head had moved forward as he spoke, her jaws clenching hard together as she met his gaze and when he made his closing argument he sunk back - seemingly extremely satisfied with himself.
"You're a pig, Spike," she stated and now he smirked again.
"What does that make you?" he retorted and she gave him a look before she rose to her feet.
He furrowed his brow.
"Where you going?" he asked. "The kitchen? Get me a snack while you're at it!"
"If you for one moment think that I'm gonna do anything for you in any way," she said, turning in the doorway and facing him as she added: "you're just more of an idiot than I thought."
"Buffy, don't be like that. Just 'cause I wanna kill you doesn't mean you have to be childish and do the same thing to me - letting me STARVE to death! Or more to death... Or into a sodding living skelleton!" he called out as she simply turned and left. "I promise I'll never, ever, EVER try to talk anyone else into killing you!" he assured, adding under his breath: "Except, of course, demons and gauls and the nasties of the world. But they're not 'anyones', they're not even 'ones'. They have no soules."
"I can hear you, you moron!" she stated, sticking her head back in the room and he rolled his eyes to the ceiling.
"Bloody hell," he murmured.
"You know, you're not even the slightest shaken up about me almost making you go the big old 'poof'," she said now, coming back into the room with a mug and his eyes grew at the sight of it. "I'm just wondering why that is," she added, walking up to the side of the tub to sit on the edge of it, facing him as she held the mug teasingly close to his mouth so that he could smell the blood in it.
"Like I said," he answered, stretching his neck to look into the mug and then up at her as he finished: "What fun would it be for you to kill me like this? All chained up and... Let me have some of that."
She smiled.
"What, this?" she asked, moving the mug slightly so that the blood began to swirl in it as she looked down, then she wrinkled her nose. "You hungry?" she then wondered and his eyes grew very close to pleading as he nodded. "Aw, what should we do about it? Starve you to death IS an option," she nodded. "But what fun would it be if you were a rattling heap of bones, right? Giles wouldn't like it, I'm sure. He'd never get ANY sleep with the racket you'd make in here."
"So... one sip? One teeny, tiny...?" the vampire asked, and she smiled again.
"Alright," she nodded, reaching out the mug to him and then it "accidently" slipped out of her grip, falling into the tub by his side and the blood spilling out. "Oh! Oups," she sighed, then shrugged as she got to her feet.
Spike bit his lower lip as he struggled to get into a position in which he could somehow reach the valuable substance, but there was no use. Finally he let out a harsh growl, raising his head and meeting the amused eyes of the Slayer.
"Bitch," he scowled and her smile widened.
"That's twice one of your kind calls me that this evening, and it really breaks my heart," she stated, turning and leaving the room.
"I hate you!" he screamed and she laughed.
After a short while she came back into the room, walking up to him she said:
"I'm leaving now. Think of the blood as just my token of saying thanks for the work-out I got tonight. Fledgelings may be low on the IQ-chart, but at least they know how to defend themselves." Once more leaning down she put her head an inch from his as she added: "Guess it must be that primeval, animalistic core that runs through all of you that just comes to the surface at a time like that - fighting, I mean - and it just screams survive no matter what. Well, I just thought the smell of food might make you unable to think of anything BUT food... and that's exactly what I'd like for you. All. Night. Long."
He bit his jaws together, meeting her eyes defyingly.
Buffy looked at him with as much loathing as he did and then there was a small twitch somewhere and she held his gaze for a second before her own travelled down to his mouth. Frowning she looked back into his eyes and then she blinked.
Spike furrowed his brow. There was another feeling on her, he just couldn't pinpoint it for some reason. And she seemed just as bewildered by it as she pulled away, straightening her back and then shaking her head a little.
"I'm leaving," she now said coldly.
"I won't follow," he assured and she gave him a look to shut up and then she turned and for the third time left the room.
Spike tried to ignore the smell of the blood, but it was too strong. Glancing down he could see it staining the white porcelain of the tub and he sighed. Then his eyes caught on something else and they grew as he quickly reached out his hand and snatched it up.
Buffy closed the front door and reached into her jacket-pocket to bring her set of keys out. Only they weren't there. Frowning with a sudden rush of discomfort down her spine she opened the door again, walked through it and found herself almost running back into the bathroom.
The bathtub was empty.
He can't hurt me, she calmed herself as she looked around the room and then turned, taking a careful step out into the hall by the kitchen. He's spelled...or something, and so he can't hurt me.
"Oh, Spikey," she called. "Where'd you think you're going, huh? You can't hunt... can't kill... can't hurt anyone really. What are you gonna do? You came here to get help, right?"
"That's right," he answered, slowly emerging from the shadows to her left and she whipped her head around as she stared at him, surprised though she struggled not to show it. "I came for help and got chains and hardly any bloody food and almost starving and oh, the treat of seeing you every bloody day!"
"You're COMPLAINING?!" she exclaimed, facing him. "You get to watch 'Passions' all day long, you get us to heat your disgusting breakfast, lunch and dinner and you haven't given us any real information about anything that you said you would and we still haven't pushed you out the door into the goddamn sunlight and you're COMPLAINING?!"
"So, I complain. What are you gonna do 'bout it?" he asked and she huffed.
"I'm gonna tie you up," she retorted and he cocked an eyebrow.
"What'd the poofster say if he caught us?" he asked and she frowned uncomprehendingly, and then the penny dropped and her eyes widened slightly at that.
"You're such a..."
"Pig," he filled in. "Yeah, yeah. But you're NOT gonna tie me up," he added.
"Oh, really?" she asked and he nodded. "And why's that?"
"'Cause I'm gonna fight you over this," he answered simply and she cocked an eyebrow.
"Oh, really?" she repeated. "Well, make your move."
He tilted his head a little to one side and then he hit her hard over the cheek with his right fist. She let out an "ao!" where he let out a scream of pain as his hands went to his head.
Three minutes later he was bound tightly to a chair. Rope was around his wrists, binding his arms to the arms of the chair; and rope was around his ankles, binding his legs to the legs of the chair.
"Wonderful," he grumbled as Buffy took another bite on the apple she had gotten for herself, seated on the couch and facing him she had been observing him with a somewhat thoughtful expression for nearly a minute.
Her munching was however exceedingly more annoying than her eyeing of him and finally he had had enough.
"If you don't stop that damn chewing I'll jump this chair over to you and somehow find a way to bite your tongue off, understand?" he growled and she raised her eyebrows slightly, her jaws pausing for a moment and then starting up again.
"Points for vivid picturing," she remarked. "But not for the threat part. Sorry, but you're kinda not in the position to make any of that nature right now. Are you?"
He glared at her harshly and then looked away.
"So bloody humiliating," he grumbled, shaking his head. "If I wasn't... like this I'd bloody rip this place apart, as well as your precious little Gang."
"You've already tried that," she pointed out sharply. "Didn't work. And once again with the not in a threat-making kind of position here," she added.
"Why don't you ask that little Riley pal of yours to come baby-sit me sometime? I'm sure a mortal could 've bunches to learn from someone... NOT mortal," Spike continued, unbashful before the fact that the Slayer having the upper hand for the moment had just told him to back off from the subject. "I mean, from what I hear you like the bloke... Why not introduce him to your very own little nemesis, all tucked away safe at your Watcher's place, eh? What, you think he couldn't stomach it? Do you think he could ever take the fact of you being the Slayer? How were you planning on telling him, by the way?"
Buffy got to her feet, gaze shooting daggers as she walked up to him and pressed the half-eaten apple inbetween his lips.
"Don't you ever shut up?" she asked and he smiled, spitting the apple out.
"Well," he smirked. "Guess I hit the spot with that one."
Buffy stared at him, at the juice of the apple slowly sliding down from his mouth to his chin and before she knew what she was doing she had leaned forward, opened her mouth and let her tounge lap it up.
"What the bloody hell?!" Spike exclaimed, completely taken off guard by the sudden sensation of the warmth of it sliding over his cool skin and then he turned his head, his eyes in hers and his grew slightly at the sudden expression in them.
Before he had any chance at reacting her head moved forward and her lips met his. The feel of her tongue once more, as it slid out to part his lips, made him respond without thinking and the sudden need to let his own play with it became maddening. Then the kiss deepened and she moaned, her hands going up to place themselves behind his neck as she kissed him harder.
However, in the next moment she pulled away from him with an exclamation of disgusted disbelief, taking three steps back and away from him as her chest heaved with her heavy breathing; her heart racing in her chest. She stared at him and he returned it, eyes wide and wondering as well as appalled.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?!" he asked and she swallowed, shaking her head.
"Don't say...anything," she demanded and he raised his eyebrows.
"I bloody well WILL say whatever the sod I want!" he disagreed. "I'm not the one who just... What the bloody hell did you just do?! You were... you actually just..."
"Shut up," she grumbled, taking another step back. "It was just some... temporary insanity... I mean, I NEVER would WANT to...do what I just did," she added, her eyes going to his mouth again and her body slowly growing warmer at the fresh memory of the feel of it against her own.
"I'd bleeding well say so," he nodded, his blue eyes still rather round as he eyed her.
"Hey, you kissed me back!" she remarked and he cocked an eyebrow.
"Don't TELL me you're gonna act up on the matter," he retorted and she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Why don't you just stop talking? Or better yet, tell me where the hell the keys are so I can put you back in your chains and get the hell outta here?"
He smirked at that, leaning back in the chair as he answered:
"They're somewhere on me... Guess you'll just have to frisk me."
She narrowed her eyes agitatedly, clenching her hands together into fists as she felt her entire body drive her to take those few steps up to him. It was that urge that was holding her back. She'd never felt anything like it in her entire life, the growing longing spreading throughout her.
"Tell me where they are," she requested, voice low and what she hoped - threatening.
"They're in the right-hand side pocket of my jeans," he answered her with a small trace of the smirk still on his lips as he tried to move his arms meaningfully, adding: "I WOULD give them to you myself, but I seem to be a little tied up at the moment."
She glared at him, pulling out her entire stock of self-control as she slowly approached him.
Spike watched the tension in her posture, trying desperately to ignore the still lingering and absolutely intoxicating feeling of her warm skin against his cold, of her strong and forceful tongue as it battled with his and wanting to discard the still lingering desire that had rosen like a clawing panther in his chest as her hair had fallen over her shoulder to brush against his cheek.
Now she stopped in front of him, once more bending forward and reaching out her right arm to dig her hand into the pocket he had named as the keeper of her ticket out of this nightmare. Because that really was all it was...a sheer nightmare.
Feeling that it was empty she closed her eyes briefly in impatience and then raised her gaze to his, her heart skipping a beat as she realized their faces were too close for comfort. He bit his lower lip slightly and she drew a small, shaky breath - the last of her willpower leaving her as she closed her eyes and moved her head forward again.
Their lips connected and she immediately deepened the kiss as she moved to get to putting her knees up on either side of his thighs: straddling him. Wrapping her arms around his neck she pressed herself to him and he struggled to get his own arms free.
Pulling his mouth from hers she opened her eyes, looking at him with a desire that almost knocked him over - the craving of her already burning him up from the inside.
"Untie me," he demanded and she shook her head, kissing him again. But he pulled away, giving her a look as he repeated: "Untie me."
"No," she said.
They shared a long glance and then they once more joined in an equally long kiss. He broke it once more, holding her eyes with his as he now murmured:
"Untie me, Slayer... I want to touch you."
At that she kissed him hard on the mouth and then slid down onto the floor, reaching up her hands to do as he asked, working on the peice of rope tying up his right wrist. When it loosened he moved his hand and grabbed a hold on the back of her head by means of a fist full of blonde locks. She let out a low "ah" and then looked up at him as he pulled her to him again.
Her whole body was throbbing now and as she once more straddled him, their lips locking harshly together and their tongues playing games with the other, her heat grew at the feel of his hand moving out of her hair to slide down her back. Slipping around her waist and sliding under the hem of her top it continued up her stomach before taking a hold on her left breast and she gasped.
"Spike," she moaned, opening her eyes to meet his.
His thumb slid over her hard nipple and her gaze grew dimmed with wanting before her hands slid up and held his face. She leaned forward and kissed him fervently. Her right hand slid down over his shoulder, further down his left arm to the rope still tying it. Feeling her yanking at the knot Spike began to pull his arm to him and with their combined strength the robe broke with a low snap and his left hand went into her hair as he pressed her to him.
Her mouth left his to travel down over the crook of his neck and he closed his eyes at the feeling of her lips and the tracing of her tongue over his skin. He was going crazy. Foreplay was something he was all for - but this was excrutiating.
"I want you..." she whispered, her mouth moving up to his left ear and her lips nibbling at his earlobe as she added: "I wanna feel you inside of me."
At that the absolute last sense of control over himself flew right out of him and his lips crashed against hers violently. He grabbed her as he got to his feet, forgetting that he was still tied to the chair with both legs and loosing his balance his mouth was torn from hers and he let out a cry of surprise as they tumbled to the floor. The chair tilted over with a bang and he found himself partially lying on the Slayer and partially on the floor.
Buffy suddenly giggled, a playfulness in her gaze as she met his that he had never seen in them before.
"Spikey," she sighed. "You're not gonna let that stop you... are you?"
He smirked, leaning down over her and brushing his lips against hers before he kissed her deeply once more. Her arms wrapping themselves around his neck as she let out a low groan, moving one leg to place it over his.
His hands travelled over her body and then they grabbed a hold on her shirt, with one light tear he ripped it open and she opened her eyes at the feel of her suddenly exposed breasts against the fabric of his black T. She could feel the taut and absolutely too tempting muscles underneath it and she pulled her lips away from his as her hands grabbed at it and then pulled it over his head with force.
"Get me loose," he demanded and she nodded, about to sit up to get to his ankles, only his head moved forward - stopping her - and she drew a shaking breath as his lips travelled over her right breast before parting and taking the nipple in his mouth.
Her hands flung up to grasp his head and she tilted her own back as the throbbing for him seemed to climax. Then she pulled away from him, kissing him hard once more before quickly crawling over to the chair. Ripping at the knots she got his left leg loose and he sat up just as the right one gave way as well.
"There you-..." she started, turning to him, but he threw himself over her and made her fall backwards - cutting the sentence short.
Her legs parted to give him room, bending at the knees as she put them on either side of him and their hips ground together, making them both gasp before kissing almost desperately again.
Buffy's hands glided over the muscles of his back and then over his waist as she moved them to the clasp of his belt. Beginning to shakily get it undone as his mouth slid away from hers and travelled over her throat.
"Buffy..." he grumbled, kissing the place of her jugular and resting his lips against the soft thumping of her rapid pulse.
She finally got the belt open and her fingers easily worked the button of his jeans and as it slipped free she rolled them both around before once more straddling him. He looked up at her questioningly as she rose to her feet and then she bent down, grabbing the pants' legs and tugging them off of him.
Once it was done he lay splayed before her on the floor completely naked and her eyes grew slightly as she swallowed, her eyes taking all of him in and then she wet her lips.
He was hers to have.
He got to his feet slowly, facing her and she felt like she had trouble breathing as he stepped closer to her and then he bent forward to trace her collar bone with his tongue. Once more she closed her eyes, her whole body beginning to tremble something terrible and her hands journeyed up his arms to place themselves on his shoulders.
His hands went to her waist and then they slid along the hem of her pants to the button of them. He got it open, sliding them down and sinking to his knees before her as she stepped out of them. He threw them aside - his hands now sliding up her thighs and she let out a small noise of anticipation as his fingers slid underneath the fabric of her panties. She was breathing hard by now and he looked up at her, holding her eyes before grabbing the fabric and - as easily as the shirt - ripping it apart.
He placed a kiss right below her bellybutton and then he rose to his feet, grabbing her under the arms to swirl her around and throw her onto the couch.
He was on her before she had registered the feel of the soft cushion below her back and the weight of him, the coolness of his skin against the fiercly hot of hers and the feel of him between her legs made her whole body ache for more.
His lips met hers in another devouring kiss and she wrapped her arms around his neck. And then he moved his hips forward, sliding into her and her eyes opened wide as she tore her mouth from his and drew a sharp breath. Her arms moved and her nails raked down over his shoulderblades as the orgasm the mere act of penetration had rocked her body with kept coursing through her.
"Oh," she gasped as he started moving inside of her and she wrapped her legs around his waist as the wave of pleasure refused to seize.
Spike struggled hard to keep from quivering at the inclination that holding her in his arms, that feeling her wanting him, that being deep within her was something he could crave as much as he was doing it right that very moment. It was as though he was flying in space and nothing else seemed to matter even the slightest anymore, except that feeling of floating; of this freedom which had him in utter bondage to the feel of her.
She was moaning beneath him as their bodies moved together and he swallowed as he looked down at her closed eyes, at the small wrinkle between her eyebrows, at her lips slightly parted as she kept breathing hard. He leaned his head down and kissed her deeply. She responded immidiately as she arched her back; her hands sliding into his hair.
The feeling inside of him was scaring the hell out of him and he pulled his mouth away, shaking his head.
"This is...wrong," he murmured and she looked up at him, eyes glazed with the feeling still raging through her and she drew a sharp breath before she mumbled:
"Later."
"Slayer..." he grumbled and she pushed his head down, smothering his voice with her tongue.
Taking his mouth from hers he groaned. He was close and the sensation was ripping him apart. He had never felt anything like it throughout his long existence and he almost whimpered when he peaked the mountain, his head sinking down and resting against the side of her throat as they slowed down their movements.
"I hate you," he stated, voice weak and Buffy licked her lips - her body still in tremors.
"Not even close to...how much I...hate you," she mumbled.
He brushed his lips against the soft skin of her throat and then raised his head to look down at her. She met his gaze with one beginning to grow close to the stern one she seemed to always adopt around him. He suddenly smirked. Her eyes almost bore a hint of warning at the sight of it and then she squirmed under him and the motion made him grow hard once more, still inside of her.
Her eyes widened and the warning had to submit to the one of need.
"This is..." she began, but he filled in the last word for her as he said:
"Wrong," and then leaned forward, kissing her harshly and a low moan rose out of her throat as she wrapped her arms around his neck again, tightly.
***
Four and a half hours later Buffy secured the last of the locks on the heavy chains confiding him to the bathtub and then she straightened her back, looking down at him with as much incredulous disbelief as he was eyeing her with.
"Not a bloody word," he grumbled, turning his head away.
"You think I'm gonna run to Willow and tell her about the hours of mindless sharing of bodily fluids I just spent with the vampire I loathe? 'Mindless' being the VERY opporative word in that sentence," she shot, crossing her arms over her chest with her eyebrows rising quizzically and he glared back up at her at that.
"I meant now, here, to me. And now that's all shot to hell, thank you very much," he muttered and she shook her head at him.
"I can't BELIEVE I even let you touch me! I'm so disgusted with myself right now I can't even..." she trailed off, shuddering with discomfort as she observed him. "I feel all... dirty," she grumbled and at that he cocked an eyebrow before his eyes got a dangerous gleam in them as he slowly suggested:
"You can always wash off," and then glanced meaningfully above him at the shower head. "I'd be happy to h-... Bloody hell! What the bugger 's wrong with me?!" he growled, once more shooting her a killing look and she bit her jaws together before she reached for her jacket, slung over the side of the tub.
One button had been left in the middle of her shirt as the rest had been torn from the fabric and she was grateful for that. Though she made sure to zip the jacket up thouroughly before she gave him a look.
"We NEVER mention this again," she stated and he raised his eyebrows.
"You think I'm gonna run tell all my little vamp mates that I did the Slayer?" he asked, mimicking her previous choice of words, and then he got a thoughtful look on his face before adding: "Actually..."
She moved up to him, leaning over him as she said:
"Spike, if you tell anyone - ANYONE - about what happened tonight, I SWEAR to you: I will kill you."
He tilted his head a little to one side as he grew deadly serious, then he gave a small nod.
"Right," he replied before he moved his head forward, his lips meeting hers and she met his kiss as her hands went up to press his mouth harder to hers.
"Spike," she mumbled, lips still to his. "I've gotta go..."
"Mhm," he mumbled, deepening the kiss again and she relished in the feel of his tongue.
"No," she murmured, still not able to resist moving her mouth and biting his lower lip, the low moan from him turning her right back on and it made her get a hold on herself as she pulled away from him. "I REALLY have to go," she added, not looking at him she turned away and walked up to the door.
"Buffy," he said and she stopped in the doorway, refusing to turn around. "'Night," he added and she closed her eyes briefly before nodding a little.
"Good night," she agreed, walking out of the room and up to the front door.
Just as she reached for the knob the rattle of a key chain made her freeze and then she grabbed the knob, turned it and met Giles' surprised gaze.
"Buffy, good heavens!" he said. "For a moment I thought Spike had managed to tear himself free. I'm happy to see I was wrong," he added, stepping in through the door as she nodded rather twitchily.
Turning her head her eyes grew slightly as she suddenly was painfully aware of just how messed up Giles' living room was. The couch was tilted over, the chair Spike had been tied to was also still on the floor, the coffeetable was moved from its original position to stand to the Slayer's left and the carpet was in more of a heap than anything else.
"Oh, dear Lord," the Watcher now breathed, dropping his duffle bag to the floor as he stared at the scene. "What happened? Was there bad... men?"
Buffy swallowed, meeting his gaze, then she nodded.
"Well... There was just ONE...man," she then answered, voice wavering. "But he is VERY bad," she then added, her eyes widening just a bit before she quickly corrected herself by saying: "I mean, he WAS very bad."
"Oh, goodness," Giles grumbled. "Well, did he get what he came for or did you manage to stop him?" he asked and the Slayer's gaze drifted to the floor for a moment before she answered:
"Well, I tried to... but he was really...strong."
Giles nodded.
"I can see that," he said, observing her. "Looks like he roughed you up."
Her cheeks grew a few degrees warmer at that and then she nodded slowly.
"So... let's see what he took, shall we?" Giles now suggested and Buffy watched him walk over to one of his bookshelves.
She tried desperately to come up with a good explanation for the lack of anything missing.
"I scared him off," she finally blurted out. "He-he ran away. That way," she then added, pointing to the hall leading to the bathroom and bedroom and Giles raised his eyebrows. "I don't think he was expecting...company," she added silently and Giles looked at her with a rather searching expression for a moment before he said:
"Good. That's very good. Whatever it was that he wanted it couldn't possibly have been anything in here... He must have simply mistaken this apartment for another."
Buffy nodded.
"Yep. Yep, yep." She hesitated and then she smiled before adding: "I really need to get home. School and all... But, I'll see you tomorrow. Or - today, I guess. Bye."
And with that she swiftly left.
Giles frowned before getting himself moving to the bathroom doorway. The vampire seemed to be sleeping easily enough. Or heavily enough, when it came to this particular vamp. Giles shrugged to himself and walked back into the living room to start the clean-up.
Spike opened his eyes, looking at the now empty doorway before closing them again and picturing Buffy's dazed expression as he made her feel the same things as she made him feel, those incredible sensations never even brushed up against before.
Then he pushed that away. This was -after all - the most hated being ever to cross his path. And he hated her so much. He really did. He hated her so much it scorched his chest.
For leaving.