Chapter 11
The house was quiet, had been for hours, and it was starting to drive Buffy up a wall. Her water was about one third gone, but she was making sure she saved some for later. The apple had sated her for a bit, but she could feel the familiar rumblings of hunger again.
Spike sat across the room from her, his eyes studying her. He could feel the very tiny beginnings of blood lust, and sitting across from him now, was the high end of blood, the very top of the blood mart. His lips were going dry just thinking about the taste of her blood.
Buffy stood up, and stretched her lean body upward. Her arms and legs were all cramping up from sitting for so long. Sparing just a glance at Spike, she walked over to grab one of the oil lamps. They were both getting dangerously low on oil, so they had doused one, and relied mostly on the light from the fireplace.
Having grabbed the lamp, Buffy walked out towards the kitchen. She felt the need to explore again, looking for anything they may have missed the first time around. Finding the kitchen again, Buffy looked through some of the cupboards.
It was only after she had looked around for a few moments that she noticed the 3-inch gap between the top of the cupboard and ceiling. Pulling a rickety chair over, Buffy climbed up to the counter, and walked along, running her hand blindly over the top of the hidden section.
Spike leaned against the doorway, watching her. He had given her a few moments, but when he heard her going through things, he followed the noise. He had a slight smile on his face as he watched her.
"Ouch!" Buffy gasped, pulling her hand down. Her finger was bleeding from a large gash on the pad of it.
Spike stiffened immediately, the smell of her blood hanging thick in the air. Buffy hadn't seen him yet as she slid down from the counter, her thin delicate finger in her puckered mouth.
She turned, and her eyes widened to see Spike standing there, his face vamped out.
"Sp-Spike? What's wrong?" Her voice was quiet and hesitant.
Rather then answering her, he walked close to her, and managed to control the raging demon. As he reached her, his face melted into his human visage. "Nothing's wrong, just smelled blood, that's all. Lemme see it." He pulled the finger slowly from her mouth, and saw the slice.
Over all, it wasn't to deep, but it was rather long. As he watched it, the slit skin formed a deep red line, and then the blood started to trickle down her finger. Looking up at her, he pulled the finger slowly into his mouth, and then shut his eyes.
Buffy's voice caught in her throat, wanting to yell out, to scream at him, but she couldn't. She felt his cool tongue as it lapped at the blood on her finger, and it sent shivers down to her toes.
She looked up at him, and saw that he was struggling to keep control over the demon. His face would start to shift, then would go back to human. She felt him starting to suck at the wound on her finger, and the feeling in the pit of her belly returned.
Finally, he pulled back, and looked at her. He frowned when his eyes came to hers, then he growled, and turned from her. Before she could say anything, he was gone from her sight.
Buffy decided that some space would be best, and she sat down on the rickety chair to take a deep breath.
*****
Spike went quickly out to the main hall, and then followed it around to the staircase. He took the stairs leading upward 2 and 3 at a time, and then buried himself into the room where the beastie had been.
Stupid sodden wanker, he thought to himself. What, you a fumbling fledgling, not having any control over your own demon? A bloody newborn? You stupid git. He angrily kicked out at the walls, continuing to curse to himself in his head.
Ah, cor, but her blood tasted like heaven, though, he thought. The sweet honey had given him an itch that his demon yearned to scratch. He could smell her arousal on the air, and he had been shocked that she wasn't fighting him when he had tasted her.
An itch, he told himself. That's all she bloody well is, a bloody itch to be scratched. Once he found his way out of this hellhole, he wouldn't look back. He'd done it once before, and damn it, he could damn well do it again.
But the taste, the feel of her against his lips. . . Cor, but he would go as mad as the damned hatter herself, Dru, if he didn't get out of here soon.
*****
Buffy finally stood, and ventured out to the main room they had camped out in. She didn't see him in there, which didn't really surprise her. The feeling in her belly was still there, which confused her.
He was the enemy, the Big Bad, a vampire, for crying out loud! She was the slayer; hence, she slayed demons like him! Cursing at herself, she went about the room, kicking out at the wall, much in the same fashion as Spike was upstairs.
The voice in her head kept protesting, saying that he wasn't the same as some of the demons she had killed in her day. It kept bringing up his love and devotion to Drusilla, but she just ignored it.
Her finger was still bleeding, and to staunch the scent she was giving off, Buffy tore off some of the material on the hem of her top, and tried to wrap it around the wound. It wasn't easy, but she was able to finally do it.
***More to come soon, I promise. :-) I hope you enjoyed this, and I finally worked into the story the name, so, yay me! :-)
The house was quiet, had been for hours, and it was starting to drive Buffy up a wall. Her water was about one third gone, but she was making sure she saved some for later. The apple had sated her for a bit, but she could feel the familiar rumblings of hunger again.
Spike sat across the room from her, his eyes studying her. He could feel the very tiny beginnings of blood lust, and sitting across from him now, was the high end of blood, the very top of the blood mart. His lips were going dry just thinking about the taste of her blood.
Buffy stood up, and stretched her lean body upward. Her arms and legs were all cramping up from sitting for so long. Sparing just a glance at Spike, she walked over to grab one of the oil lamps. They were both getting dangerously low on oil, so they had doused one, and relied mostly on the light from the fireplace.
Having grabbed the lamp, Buffy walked out towards the kitchen. She felt the need to explore again, looking for anything they may have missed the first time around. Finding the kitchen again, Buffy looked through some of the cupboards.
It was only after she had looked around for a few moments that she noticed the 3-inch gap between the top of the cupboard and ceiling. Pulling a rickety chair over, Buffy climbed up to the counter, and walked along, running her hand blindly over the top of the hidden section.
Spike leaned against the doorway, watching her. He had given her a few moments, but when he heard her going through things, he followed the noise. He had a slight smile on his face as he watched her.
"Ouch!" Buffy gasped, pulling her hand down. Her finger was bleeding from a large gash on the pad of it.
Spike stiffened immediately, the smell of her blood hanging thick in the air. Buffy hadn't seen him yet as she slid down from the counter, her thin delicate finger in her puckered mouth.
She turned, and her eyes widened to see Spike standing there, his face vamped out.
"Sp-Spike? What's wrong?" Her voice was quiet and hesitant.
Rather then answering her, he walked close to her, and managed to control the raging demon. As he reached her, his face melted into his human visage. "Nothing's wrong, just smelled blood, that's all. Lemme see it." He pulled the finger slowly from her mouth, and saw the slice.
Over all, it wasn't to deep, but it was rather long. As he watched it, the slit skin formed a deep red line, and then the blood started to trickle down her finger. Looking up at her, he pulled the finger slowly into his mouth, and then shut his eyes.
Buffy's voice caught in her throat, wanting to yell out, to scream at him, but she couldn't. She felt his cool tongue as it lapped at the blood on her finger, and it sent shivers down to her toes.
She looked up at him, and saw that he was struggling to keep control over the demon. His face would start to shift, then would go back to human. She felt him starting to suck at the wound on her finger, and the feeling in the pit of her belly returned.
Finally, he pulled back, and looked at her. He frowned when his eyes came to hers, then he growled, and turned from her. Before she could say anything, he was gone from her sight.
Buffy decided that some space would be best, and she sat down on the rickety chair to take a deep breath.
*****
Spike went quickly out to the main hall, and then followed it around to the staircase. He took the stairs leading upward 2 and 3 at a time, and then buried himself into the room where the beastie had been.
Stupid sodden wanker, he thought to himself. What, you a fumbling fledgling, not having any control over your own demon? A bloody newborn? You stupid git. He angrily kicked out at the walls, continuing to curse to himself in his head.
Ah, cor, but her blood tasted like heaven, though, he thought. The sweet honey had given him an itch that his demon yearned to scratch. He could smell her arousal on the air, and he had been shocked that she wasn't fighting him when he had tasted her.
An itch, he told himself. That's all she bloody well is, a bloody itch to be scratched. Once he found his way out of this hellhole, he wouldn't look back. He'd done it once before, and damn it, he could damn well do it again.
But the taste, the feel of her against his lips. . . Cor, but he would go as mad as the damned hatter herself, Dru, if he didn't get out of here soon.
*****
Buffy finally stood, and ventured out to the main room they had camped out in. She didn't see him in there, which didn't really surprise her. The feeling in her belly was still there, which confused her.
He was the enemy, the Big Bad, a vampire, for crying out loud! She was the slayer; hence, she slayed demons like him! Cursing at herself, she went about the room, kicking out at the wall, much in the same fashion as Spike was upstairs.
The voice in her head kept protesting, saying that he wasn't the same as some of the demons she had killed in her day. It kept bringing up his love and devotion to Drusilla, but she just ignored it.
Her finger was still bleeding, and to staunch the scent she was giving off, Buffy tore off some of the material on the hem of her top, and tried to wrap it around the wound. It wasn't easy, but she was able to finally do it.
***More to come soon, I promise. :-) I hope you enjoyed this, and I finally worked into the story the name, so, yay me! :-)