Alright, you all know the usual disclaimer stuff, so I'll spare it. This is
the chapter where things get R (notice the title, hehe.) Anyway, I have
finished the rest of the story, but it might be awhile before I get it up
since I'm going out of town. Anyway, thanks for the reviews.
Chapter Nine: The Pieces Fit
Buffy groaned as the hot water in the shower streamed over a nasty bruise on her collarbone. She had been at the mansion about four days now, and still wasn't in full health. Slayer healing helped the exterior marks of torture fade away but was a bit slower in making the bone deep ache disappear. Of course that particular area of hurt had been better a few hours earlier, and the fresh pain she was dealing with was her fault. She had just woken up and felt absolutely useless. Cabin fever, maybe? She had felt like she would go crazy if she didn't hit something. Their delicate game of coexistence was no longer distraction enough. Maybe it was her sacred duty calling for a slay.
Spike had raised a scarred eyebrow when she had sighed in frustration over the breakfast table. When she explained what was wrong, he didn't seem surprised at all.in fact, he grinned knowingly, obviously feeling the same thing. Sliding fluidly from his seat, he snatched her hand and yanked her out of the room, brooking no argument. Not that she had any, because it had led to them sparring for about an hour in the mansion's basement. Time flew by quickly as the pair concentrated on working out their need for violence. A perverse kind of relationship, maybe, but the kicks and punches seemed different when one wasn't fighting for their life. Then they were just fun. Buffy rarely got the opportunity to fight just for the hell of it. And especially not against someone who could hold their own so well.
"Are you finished drowning yourself, Slayer?" he spoke, amused voice muffled by the door to the bathroom.
Ha. He was waiting for her to finish in the shower so he could use it. It wasn't like this was the only place in the entire house where he could clean up, he just kicked her out to spite her, she knew it. Oh well, she had finished washing anyway, just basking in the warmth for a few minutes longer than necessary.
"Just a minute!" the blonde hollered back, stepping out, putting on a robe and wrapping her hair in a clean towel. She opened the door for the vampire, ruefully eyeing the scrapes on her knuckles. Invariably she managed to hit a wall or some inanimate object every time she fought.
"Welcome back to the land of the living." Spike quipped, smirking at her almost fondly. She looked up at him, noticing the black eye and dried blood on his lip. The wounds she had put there made him look cuter. But kinda. not in a little boy way.
That thought made her let out a tiny little laugh and say without rancor, "I hope you're hurting as much as I am."
"Got that right," he snickered, dark blue eyes smug. "Have to check if all my significant parts are intact."
He didn't even wait for that thought to sink in before he closed the door with a smirk, completely missing the blush that lit her cheeks.
"Thanks for sharing." Buffy muttered under her breath as she walked down the hall, away from a vampire who should not have been allowed to be so good-looking, evil, and understanding at the same time.
********** After a quick shower, the vampire chuckled at his battle bruises, knowing they would heal rather rapidly. In any case, getting the chance to battle with the Slayer had been interesting, fast-paced, and a helluva lot of fun. The entire basement was a disaster area, having been filled with antiques before the pair had come down. Now it was full of broken furniture and shattered glass objects from bodies being thrown into them, and even from being thrown at bodies. As he walked back to his bedroom, he tried to decide whether he wanted to try cleaning up that mess.
Looking at the clock to see that it was still late morning, he discarded the towel from around his waist and clambered under the sheets of his bed. He was getting tired, and the Slayer would realize daytime was when he slept. She might as well take advantage of the resting time since she was quite the night owl herself. But, just his luck, she didn't, appearing in a t-shirt that came down to mid-thigh.
"Was everything in its place?" Buffy said shrewdly, leaning against the doorframe and completely at ease. "I'm sure you checked thoroughly."
"Pardon?" he responded, disconcerted for a moment before he realized what she was referring to. With a cocky smirk, he regained his attitude. "Need to come see for yourself?"
"I've got enough sore spots of my own, thank you," she primly declined, a mischievous sparkle in her hazel eyes. Here they were, flirting again.
"Oh, have you now?" his interested voice resonated, a low rumble that did funny things to her insides, even though it should not have.
Did this mean she was getting feelings for another vampire, despite all she had learned? Buffy didn't know how to react to this.she wasn't even sure what the extent of her feelings were, but the truth was she liked spending time with Spike. Letting go of all the pressures she usually placed herself under had been incredibly therapeutic. And the fact was they liked each other.at least, they seemed ready to. Why else would he have kept kissing her the night of the apocalypse? Why else were they baiting each other with sexual innuendoes?
"Need to see for yourself?" she threw back at him, deciding to go all out if they were going to go into this kind of conversation.
When he failed to answer, the emotions on his face many and unreadable, she moved onto the bed, sitting next to him. His azure eyes were steadily gazing at her, not flinching as she raised a tentative hand to touch the puffy underside of his eye. The vampire hissed a little when she put too much pressure on it, and she offered a smile of contrition, removing the touch. Lightly memorizing the feel of his uninjured cheekbones, she was amazed at the intricate structure of his facial features, sharp edges giving him a unique look of strength. She leaned in towards the right side and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.
"Buffy, I don't think we." Spike suggested, voice painfully slow to speak.
"Sorry, I just thought that you wanted.I shouldn't have..sorry," the blonde whispered, realizing in a set of disjointed thoughts that she had been reading him wrong. He must talk to every female the same way.
"No, it's not you," he tried to explain, not willing to define his feelings until he had them under control. "It's just, I know you'll regret it later. Slayers and vampires."
"You didn't have any problems kissing me the night we fought Angelus," Buffy noted, watching him shift uncomfortably.
"That was part of the ruse to get him to think I was playing on his team," the vampire clarified, but looked more on-the-verge-of-miserable than conniving.
"So I was an act," she said flatly, showing no emotion on her face.
"Well, yeah." Spike told her defensively, finally mastering his facial expression. "Had to play tormentor."
"You could have done that by cutting me up." Buffy informed him, a tiny smile on her features. "You're becoming a terrible liar."
"Thanks ever so much for your opinion," he retorted sourly, beginning to scoot off the bed to leave. But he was stopped by two things: the realization he had no clothes on, and what she said next.
"And I didn't give you the chance to do it properly either," she said, speaking of her earlier closed mouth.
So she leaned forward, catching and kissing him deeply. As he registered her lips touching his, her hands running through his platinum hair, it took a second of gratified surprise before he joined in. The kiss lasted for only a short time before she broke away gently. He was still in shock, having talked himself into believing she would have nothing to do with such a lowly creature as he.
"Well," was all he could manage to say, his head still whirling.
"Well?" Buffy smiled back.
He just looked at her for a moment, overwhelmed by the sensations. He knew he should have skipped town instead of playing nurse to the Slayer. Instead of kissing her.but he couldn't help himself. Whatever else there was, there was trust between them.and a lust that was staring him right in the face, stronger than he had reckoned it to be.
"You should take it back." Spike grinned, his arm snaking out and bringing her head back to his.
The kiss sizzled through both their nerves, as potent as the first time in the cemetery. This time it lasted longer, the blonde only coming up for air as few times as she could without passing out. God knew how close she was to blacking out from sheer ecstasy anyway.the world around her had downsized to just the two of them and the sensations they wreaked on each other's bodies.
"God, Buffy," the vampire mumbled, somehow finding the strength to pull himself away. He found himself faced with her smiling face, about to say something. "Let me guess, you've changed your mind?"
At this accurate assessment, she just widened her satisfied grin. He conceded to brush his lips across hers briefly before tugging a blanket from under her and sliding off the bed. He wasn't quick enough to conceal his nudity, showing a glimpse of trim backside before he managed to wrap the sheet around himself.
"Nice view," she chuckled, surprised to see him blush.
Spike, modest? Unheard of! Not that he had something to hide.clothing on him was like covering a work of art. She shook herself mentally.it was bad enough she had thought that, but at least she hadn't said it aloud. But he rapidly got over his embarrassment and padded confidently from the room, throwing her a scorching look over his shoulder. She shivered at that look- it was like he was undressing her in a matter of milliseconds.
As he moved elsewhere in the house to find clothes and she waited in bed, staring at the ceiling, their thoughts were near identical. The other saw them as just a lust object, nothing to be respected or seen for who they really were. Yet they were both near desperate to act on the lust that they felt, acting like lovers already. How could there not be something else behind this, considering their colorful history? And then again, upon considering said history, maybe not. Life was so uncertain. Maybe the two of them were reaching out for anything solid they could hold onto.
The mansion had become their limbo, a world apart from everything and everyone else. What would happen when she was obligated to return? How did the confusing comfort they had discovered here fit into real life? But she was sure of one thing, she wanted.
"Hey there," a now-clothed Spike interrupted the reverie, bearing a bowl in his hands and saying with a jaunty grin. "Milk and cereal.no fire involved."
"I'll bet you poisoned it." Buffy made a face, but knew that the gesture was unnecessary, and therefore sweet. He had actually remembered a trivial part of a conversation.he was just full of surprises this morning.
"Won't know until you choke," he joked back, eyes shimmering with humor.
She hazarded a glance at the cereal, identifying exactly what it was. "You *are* trying to kill me.this stuff is nothing but pure sugar!"
"Can't pick your poison, luv," the vampire said, stubbornly extending the bowl out for her to take.
*If he only knew what poison I really wanted..*
"What if I tell you just where to put your cereal." she began, huffily taking the food when he glared at her. Shoving a couple bites in her mouth, she put it aside. "There."
"You sure you don't want more?" Spike asked with a miniature grin.
It was the kind of smile that said he already knew the answer, but was mentioning it just to get on her nerves. And he was so good at doing that. But for some reason, it wasn't just her nerves that were getting disturbed by this vamp.
"No more." Buffy affirmed irritably, before deciding to turn the tables. Blatantly moving her eyes over his chest to his face, she said in a sultry voice. "I can think of better things to do."
"Uh-huh," he advanced towards her, his fascinating cobalt eyes showing some captivation of their own. She shivered as he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "So unless you're in the mood for a game of chess, I suppose I shouldn't have bothered covering up."
"No.I mean, if you're more comfortable." She tripped over her words, cursing herself for losing her cool. She had started this, and the instant he joined in, her confident exterior fell away. Now he had proof she was just a little girl.all her experience to his was nothing. It had been a stupid idea to try seduction like this.
"Relax." Spike told her, blue eyes darting from her worried face to the white-knuckled fists she held on the bedspread. Her proposition had caught him off guard, though that didn't mean he wasn't aching for it. Still, she was nervous about something. "You don't need to do this.if you don't want."
"I want," she said with a deep breath, steadying herself to look the vampire in the eye. Then her face colored slightly, as she mentioned rather reasonably. "Unless you don't."
"Don't be ridiculous, pet," his voice came back, muffled by the t-shirt as he pulled it over his head.
"Definite improvement." Buffy said saucily, letting her eyes roam over his muscular chest.
Her self-esteem was restored by the confirmation that he was willing.and able, as evidenced by a fleeting glance down south. A bewitching smile flit across her lips, and she reached down, beginning to tug at the hem of her own shirt. His hand shot out and grabbed her own, forcing it to lie still on her thigh.
"Not yet," the platinum-blonde directed, his burning eyes and rakish smile holding her in a unique thrall. But the intense sensation was reciprocal.Buffy could see that in his gaze. "Just be patient, luv. We have time."
"True enough," she breathed, watching their clasped hands. Uncertain of what else to do, she shifted to put her weight on her elbows, the muscles in her leg shifting as she did so.
Looking up swiftly when he took in a breath, the blonde woman was satisfied to see the evident desire in his eyes. Then his hand moved and it was her turn to gasp. Numbed by the sight of his calloused palm sliding up her tanned leg, Buffy could only shiver, loath to stop him.
"Heightens the anticipation, doesn't it?" Spike asked her under his breath, leisurely continuing to trace a line up towards the apex of her legs.
"You're talking too much," she answered in a desperate whisper, needing more contact that his tantalizing touch was not providing.
"Still expecting you snap out of it, call me a pig, and sock me a good one on the jaw."
The only thing she did next was lunge forward and capture his lips, tongue darting in to banish any further words. She need not have worried; the vanilla scent and silky texture of her hair had rendered him beyond speech. They allowed their ruthless mouths to clash in a wave of intoxicating arousal. Somehow before the two of them drowned, he pulled away, his eyes gleaming with an instinctual impatience.
Responding in kind, she pulled him onto the bed, smiling mysteriously as he kneeled, still towering over her. That dark blue gaze was forcefully compelling as he lowered his torso to hers. She drew a breath, adjusting to the weight of his body and expecting that pale mouth to kiss her yet again. It was a complete surprise when the lips grazed her neck instead and continued a seductive path down.
When the vampire stopped at her breast and latched on, the blonde woman offered no protest, trying to respire evenly.but her heavily set eyelids showed she was far from relaxed. He was inflicting all kinds of torment, rather successful because the thin cotton of her t-shirt did little to make her not notice the ministrations. The action was ungodly intimate, made even more so when his hands entered the fray, caressing her sides and hips. She twisted under his skillful touch, this kind of gratification a gift and a curse all at once.
She finally got the presence of mind to reciprocate, bringing her arms between their bodies to unzip his jeans. Spike, for a split second, stopped what he was doing but immediately recovered, eliciting a gasp from her with a well-placed hand. Supposing this was his assent to have her 'wicked way', she moved away from the front of his pants teasingly slow, letting him consider just what she might have done. She snaked her hands around the curve of his back and tugged the denim down with surety, aiding the fabric down to his knees until he broke away and kicked them eagerly onto the floor. That was all the time it took for her to discard the t-shirt as well.
They stopped for a moment, he taking in the luxurious curves of her body and she the many powerful, sleek lines of his. Then she drew him closer, feeling that arrogant male beauty, urging him wordlessly to end foreplay. Their senses truthfully had been heightened ever since she had woken up from the battle, and arousal was no hard thing to achieve. Some small part of him worried he would hurt her, worried she hadn't healed enough yet. But when she wrapped her legs around his lean hips, he was inside her without any gentleness whatsoever, and as such was completely, irreversibly lost. Time and the rest of the world stopped, the pair's motions seeming to be the only ones that could sustain life.
And now his lips were against Buffy's throat, tasting, kissing, tiny bites along her veins. She could feel her thundering pulse through the light touches, and still he slid in and out, his rhythm joining with her racing heartbeat and ragged breaths, three merging into one and burning up the length of her body. Their muscles were filled with tension, something like adrenaline driving them on towards sated oblivion.
As Spike increased his rough tempo, some ageless force grew closer to them, spiraling up in waves of dizzying heat from deep within. They strained together, anticipating, finally reaching it, just within their grasp. Instinctively they knew it came from inside their bodies, and so dug further into each other, deeper and deeper. The power was volatile, wild, and for a split second of climax, they would touch it.
And then, innately knowing when the finish was most near, her inner muscles constricted and he delivered a final stroke. It was as if they shattered under the weight of orgasm, feeling that physical crescendo building and falling away, searing their souls as it went. They collapsed atop each other, unable to move until strength had returned to their bodies.
He was the first to move, pulling himself out from where he had been buried. He had found it a much sweeter place than the grave, though both were darkly mysterious, enticing. They sprawled on the bed, slick with sweat, looking absently at the ceiling. After about five minutes of weary aftermath, Buffy curved her arms around his neck, drawing their two bodies closer. Limbs entwined as if they were sharing strength, the exhausted couple drifted into dreamless sleep, absurdly comfortable in their nudity.
********** Buffy awoke slowly, still half convinced she was dreaming.but she knew the light touch feathering over her spine was just as nice, and wonderfully real. She groaned softly as she eased into full wakefulness, the noise muffled by the fact she was laying on her belly and in several pillows. A miracle she had not suffocated during the night.
"Morning, luv," a voice purred at the nape of her neck. The light brush of fingertips stopped and instead lips played over her skin, extracting another moan from the woman as she savored the tickling sensation. She had the right to luxuriate in this-waking up beside a partner was new.
"It's not fair." Buffy muttered drowsily, twisting her face around to look at his devilish grin. "You aren't even tired. Insatiable is what you are."
"Can you blame me?" Spike countered softly with an admiring smile. These words were rewarded by her hand twining around to find his.
"I'd say the same for you, but," she yawned widely, secretly pleased with his compliment. "Too sleepy to prove it."
"Guess I'll have to wait then," the vampire sighed with feigned melancholy, which rapidly changed into an insinuative smirk.
"I'll learn the secret of being a morning person someday," the Slayer grumbled, finally rolling over so she could see him. All of him.
It was an eyeful, and that wasn't just talking about his physical presence. All at once she was seeing everything about this man who had once been a monster, and an enemy even before that. Now she could not help but wonder why the whole picture had never been there before. Quick wits and experience made him an ally, a trustworthy, funny companion to those who could gain his trust. And now his toned body and unexpected kindnesses filled out the portrait of a perfect lover. But it was the tenderness and esteem in those blue eyes that completed him, as he was this moment in time.
Spike watched her perusal through eyelids as heavy as the thick wooden coffin he should have been residing in. Her thoughts were hidden to him, but whatever was on her face was not of animosity, more as if she had achieved some revelation. Certainly the night before he had, not only with Buffy, but also with himself. For the last weeks he had ignored the soul, its sporadic urgings of remorse put out of mind. But now it seemed part of him, as if by reaching deep to understand the girl, he had managed to quell the part of him that was unhappy with what he had become--William, as it were. The peace that had only come with the kill was now accessible without any effort. Or was that thanks to the golden-haired woman in his arms? No; they were one and the same.
There was assurance he was not like Angel, old kills not coming back to haunt him, plague his dreams. Buffy knew that, but pondered how exactly he had changed in their most recent encounter. He didn't seem willing to change his ways that drastically-like he had said, he had to eat to live. So maybe they weren't heading for a cozy tomb with a view.yet things were obviously different. Just how much were they willing to invest in whatever this relationship had become? And then she realized with a shock: those qualities, his qualities, which she had mused upon balanced hers perfectly. It was like she could only feel, could actually *live* when she was around him. Love.
The look in her hazel eyes intensified, and heat flooded his face. The vampire almost fidgeted under the weight of that gaze, nervously tousling his hair more than it already was. The Slayer bit her lower lip apprehensively, noticing his discomfort. Usually the predator, it was peculiar that her newfound lover was hesitant. That bothered her. It was as if he was holding back because of some irrational fear caused by her. Spike was waiting for the punchline of a colossal joke that ended dustily.
"Smile for me?" she asked wistfully, breaking their extended silence in a statement she hoped would reassure him she wasn't harboring second thoughts.
The puzzled half-smile he relinquished was not what she was looking for. Dissatisfied, she kissed him, a bold play that nonetheless employed no force. Gently setting electricity loose to run through their bodies, Buffy gradually disentangled herself from his questing lips. Looking at his face, she saw that her efforts to convey emotion had been successful. This time the smile from her dream was warming his azure eyes, nearly making his face angelic.
"I think I." Buffy faltered, then gathered her confidence, "I love you."
He gaped at her, not sure whether to be thrilled or disbelieving, settling for a mix of both. This was an unexpected twist that he had, admittedly, hoped for. And now the reality of it took awhile to sink in, coupled with the fact he didn't know what to say. A mere 'I love you too' seemed so trite, not to mention awkward. He was certain those words were true, but was it the kind of love she expected?
"You look like you're expecting a hidden camera crew to come out of the walls," she quipped as she settled herself under the sheets. Oddly, she understood his need to think but was unable to bear silence. So back they fell into irreverent conversation. "And reveal I'm really an 80-year-old guy."
"I hope I didn't just bang a man," Spike commented, sliding a hand under the bedsheets just to make sure. She tried not to cry out as he punctuated his drawling words. "That'd be a rotten trick."
"I meant it, you know." Buffy said timidly as she stopped his hand, not sure if he was avoiding the subject on purpose. "About."
"I know you did," the platinum-blonde cut her off, his eyes gleaming with a wealth of emotion. "I've felt the same way for awhile, just didn't think you'd take that very well."
"Up until that kiss in the crypt, probably not," she honestly admitted, "And even after, I would have thought you weren't capable of love."
"That was then. Do you believe me now?" the vampire questioned carefully, knowing he shouldn't put so much weight on that one question.but it was bloody important.
"Yes," the Slayer breathed, already enraptured by the happiness in his eyes. Was that same look in hers? It certainly felt that way.
Just then doubt stole into his face.
"No more of this 'you-have-a-soul' rot." Spike demanded with insecurity written all over him. "I'll love all of you, whether you do the same, but."
"Don't worry," she interrupted, sitting up to grab his bare shoulders. "You've proven yourself even before the soul.even if it left right now."
That in some ways appeased him, but because she didn't finish the thought, he decided to test her. She needed to be sure of what she was getting into.
Vamping out with a hungry smile, the bleached blonde remarked. "Well, that's convenient then."
Immediately, she jumped off the bed, mind reacting instinctively to the apparent danger. He was touched that she didn't try to kill him right away- that was a truer test than words would offer. Not that she could attack successfully right now, being both without weapons and stark naked.
"I should have known no man is capable of pillow talk without having ulterior motives." Buffy said with some amount of sadness but more hurt that this was happening to her again after Angelus. Both tones wrenched his unbeating heart.
Why had he not realized a violent trial like this would freak her out?. Instantly contrite, he returned to a human visage. The last thing he wanted her to think was that this was just about sex and a meal.it was about *her*. At least, it was to the rational side of him. The way she smiled when she was happy, even that serious brooding look when she was trying to think.which looked worlds better on her than it had on his grandsire. Beauty was just an added bonus to match her sharp tongue and unique brand of intelligence. How she always managed to know what to do even if it destroyed her.such strength was alluring.
And now she was watching him warily, wounded by the display he had put on and obviously not sure what to make of his motive for sleeping with her.
"Chatting afterwards is a rarity amongst the male of the species," he informed her with no trace of savagery in his face, merely an amused expression. "I'm more than happy to oblige, I'm just used to the bird preferring to go at it again."
That last was accompanied by a wicked grin, that one that melted her heart and other body parts. She finally realized that this had been some peculiar test of his. From the satisfied body language he was putting off, almost as noticeable as the 'See, I'm harmless' vibe, she was fairly certain she had passed. Still, she hadn't a clue why he had gone off on that tangent.
"I guess we need to finish talking about my rash declaration." Buffy said slowly, but did not move an inch from where she stood.
"Come here then." Spike coaxed her, leaning patiently on the bed and looking directly at her face.
That itself convinced her he was sincere-if he was in this for the sex , wouldn't he be staring at her exposed body? It was all too much to think about.
The sheets he lay under rippled as he brought his knees to his chin, adding whimsically, "Hey, I don't bite."
"Very funny." Buffy said caustically, nonetheless moving back to join him under the covers. His relieved smile dissipated as she hit him square in the chest to show her appreciation.
He rapidly reacted by flipping her over with a twist of the hips. Before she had time to gasp or try to get out from underneath him, he had grinded her deep into the mattress and fluffy pillows.
"Pillow talk, huh?" he reiterated devilishly, the weight of his body centered on his pelvis.
"It's not that I don't appreciate your other side," the Slayer managed to say as it rendered her breathless, "but I have to know if you really did lose the soul when we."
"I shouldn't have reminded you of what happened with Angelus," he said suddenly as he slid off her, obviously upset by his error. "I'm almost as much of an idiot as he was."
Stricken by *his* distress, Buffy let the comment about Angel wash over her unchallenged. What mattered right now was erasing the shame from her love's face.
"You did that for a reason, I know," she said shrewdly, rubbing the side of his face with a manicured hand. "I assume to emphasize your badness?"
"Yeah," the vampire confirmed softly, looking into her face worriedly. "I need you to understand that the soul isn't me.maybe one day I won't listen to it, go and kill."
"Do you think that's all that matters to me? I can handle that part of you, Spike. What scares me is you'll get too carried away with brooding over the soul and somehow decide *I'm* too good for you.your emotions are a much more uncertain thing right now, and we're all alone in life, and can't we just forget about consequences?"
In response to her ardent words, he enfolded her in his arms, feeling incredibly blessed that she felt the way she did. He realized she was tearing up a little when he detected dampness on his shoulder. Moving her face away from the shelter of his body, the vampire kissed the exquisite but needless tears away. Placing a final kiss on her lips, he pulled back and looked at her earnestly.
"You can just be my soul then, love." Spike whispered against her mouth before claiming it yet again.
"Agreed." Buffy murmured, smiling at his handsome face, made even more so by the contented air of their bedroom. For once she could tell the difference between his 'luv' and 'love'-that was somewhat handy.
"And if that soul gets lost," he concluded, speaking between drawing her lips closer and tempting their tongues to battle. "I'll know who to blame, won't I?"
She just snuggled close to him, a tiny secretive smile on her lips at the sudden thought of how her friends and mother would react to their newly forged relationship.
"Worst thing about this job," the Slayer sighed wretchedly. "Everyone always blames me."
He flashed her a knowing, purely male smirk as she finished talking. She flushed at the wicked look in his eyes, but was intrigued as well. This was a man who knew what he was doing, whether in battle or bed.and damn, was he good at both.
"You want to know what else is your fault?" he asked as she wriggled against to him to get comfortable. She raised a questioning brow, and so he guided her hand to a certain thing that was all of her doing.
"Spike." she breathed huskily, and that was his undoing.
They fell deeper into each other, or maybe they had been falling all along.
Chapter Nine: The Pieces Fit
Buffy groaned as the hot water in the shower streamed over a nasty bruise on her collarbone. She had been at the mansion about four days now, and still wasn't in full health. Slayer healing helped the exterior marks of torture fade away but was a bit slower in making the bone deep ache disappear. Of course that particular area of hurt had been better a few hours earlier, and the fresh pain she was dealing with was her fault. She had just woken up and felt absolutely useless. Cabin fever, maybe? She had felt like she would go crazy if she didn't hit something. Their delicate game of coexistence was no longer distraction enough. Maybe it was her sacred duty calling for a slay.
Spike had raised a scarred eyebrow when she had sighed in frustration over the breakfast table. When she explained what was wrong, he didn't seem surprised at all.in fact, he grinned knowingly, obviously feeling the same thing. Sliding fluidly from his seat, he snatched her hand and yanked her out of the room, brooking no argument. Not that she had any, because it had led to them sparring for about an hour in the mansion's basement. Time flew by quickly as the pair concentrated on working out their need for violence. A perverse kind of relationship, maybe, but the kicks and punches seemed different when one wasn't fighting for their life. Then they were just fun. Buffy rarely got the opportunity to fight just for the hell of it. And especially not against someone who could hold their own so well.
"Are you finished drowning yourself, Slayer?" he spoke, amused voice muffled by the door to the bathroom.
Ha. He was waiting for her to finish in the shower so he could use it. It wasn't like this was the only place in the entire house where he could clean up, he just kicked her out to spite her, she knew it. Oh well, she had finished washing anyway, just basking in the warmth for a few minutes longer than necessary.
"Just a minute!" the blonde hollered back, stepping out, putting on a robe and wrapping her hair in a clean towel. She opened the door for the vampire, ruefully eyeing the scrapes on her knuckles. Invariably she managed to hit a wall or some inanimate object every time she fought.
"Welcome back to the land of the living." Spike quipped, smirking at her almost fondly. She looked up at him, noticing the black eye and dried blood on his lip. The wounds she had put there made him look cuter. But kinda. not in a little boy way.
That thought made her let out a tiny little laugh and say without rancor, "I hope you're hurting as much as I am."
"Got that right," he snickered, dark blue eyes smug. "Have to check if all my significant parts are intact."
He didn't even wait for that thought to sink in before he closed the door with a smirk, completely missing the blush that lit her cheeks.
"Thanks for sharing." Buffy muttered under her breath as she walked down the hall, away from a vampire who should not have been allowed to be so good-looking, evil, and understanding at the same time.
********** After a quick shower, the vampire chuckled at his battle bruises, knowing they would heal rather rapidly. In any case, getting the chance to battle with the Slayer had been interesting, fast-paced, and a helluva lot of fun. The entire basement was a disaster area, having been filled with antiques before the pair had come down. Now it was full of broken furniture and shattered glass objects from bodies being thrown into them, and even from being thrown at bodies. As he walked back to his bedroom, he tried to decide whether he wanted to try cleaning up that mess.
Looking at the clock to see that it was still late morning, he discarded the towel from around his waist and clambered under the sheets of his bed. He was getting tired, and the Slayer would realize daytime was when he slept. She might as well take advantage of the resting time since she was quite the night owl herself. But, just his luck, she didn't, appearing in a t-shirt that came down to mid-thigh.
"Was everything in its place?" Buffy said shrewdly, leaning against the doorframe and completely at ease. "I'm sure you checked thoroughly."
"Pardon?" he responded, disconcerted for a moment before he realized what she was referring to. With a cocky smirk, he regained his attitude. "Need to come see for yourself?"
"I've got enough sore spots of my own, thank you," she primly declined, a mischievous sparkle in her hazel eyes. Here they were, flirting again.
"Oh, have you now?" his interested voice resonated, a low rumble that did funny things to her insides, even though it should not have.
Did this mean she was getting feelings for another vampire, despite all she had learned? Buffy didn't know how to react to this.she wasn't even sure what the extent of her feelings were, but the truth was she liked spending time with Spike. Letting go of all the pressures she usually placed herself under had been incredibly therapeutic. And the fact was they liked each other.at least, they seemed ready to. Why else would he have kept kissing her the night of the apocalypse? Why else were they baiting each other with sexual innuendoes?
"Need to see for yourself?" she threw back at him, deciding to go all out if they were going to go into this kind of conversation.
When he failed to answer, the emotions on his face many and unreadable, she moved onto the bed, sitting next to him. His azure eyes were steadily gazing at her, not flinching as she raised a tentative hand to touch the puffy underside of his eye. The vampire hissed a little when she put too much pressure on it, and she offered a smile of contrition, removing the touch. Lightly memorizing the feel of his uninjured cheekbones, she was amazed at the intricate structure of his facial features, sharp edges giving him a unique look of strength. She leaned in towards the right side and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.
"Buffy, I don't think we." Spike suggested, voice painfully slow to speak.
"Sorry, I just thought that you wanted.I shouldn't have..sorry," the blonde whispered, realizing in a set of disjointed thoughts that she had been reading him wrong. He must talk to every female the same way.
"No, it's not you," he tried to explain, not willing to define his feelings until he had them under control. "It's just, I know you'll regret it later. Slayers and vampires."
"You didn't have any problems kissing me the night we fought Angelus," Buffy noted, watching him shift uncomfortably.
"That was part of the ruse to get him to think I was playing on his team," the vampire clarified, but looked more on-the-verge-of-miserable than conniving.
"So I was an act," she said flatly, showing no emotion on her face.
"Well, yeah." Spike told her defensively, finally mastering his facial expression. "Had to play tormentor."
"You could have done that by cutting me up." Buffy informed him, a tiny smile on her features. "You're becoming a terrible liar."
"Thanks ever so much for your opinion," he retorted sourly, beginning to scoot off the bed to leave. But he was stopped by two things: the realization he had no clothes on, and what she said next.
"And I didn't give you the chance to do it properly either," she said, speaking of her earlier closed mouth.
So she leaned forward, catching and kissing him deeply. As he registered her lips touching his, her hands running through his platinum hair, it took a second of gratified surprise before he joined in. The kiss lasted for only a short time before she broke away gently. He was still in shock, having talked himself into believing she would have nothing to do with such a lowly creature as he.
"Well," was all he could manage to say, his head still whirling.
"Well?" Buffy smiled back.
He just looked at her for a moment, overwhelmed by the sensations. He knew he should have skipped town instead of playing nurse to the Slayer. Instead of kissing her.but he couldn't help himself. Whatever else there was, there was trust between them.and a lust that was staring him right in the face, stronger than he had reckoned it to be.
"You should take it back." Spike grinned, his arm snaking out and bringing her head back to his.
The kiss sizzled through both their nerves, as potent as the first time in the cemetery. This time it lasted longer, the blonde only coming up for air as few times as she could without passing out. God knew how close she was to blacking out from sheer ecstasy anyway.the world around her had downsized to just the two of them and the sensations they wreaked on each other's bodies.
"God, Buffy," the vampire mumbled, somehow finding the strength to pull himself away. He found himself faced with her smiling face, about to say something. "Let me guess, you've changed your mind?"
At this accurate assessment, she just widened her satisfied grin. He conceded to brush his lips across hers briefly before tugging a blanket from under her and sliding off the bed. He wasn't quick enough to conceal his nudity, showing a glimpse of trim backside before he managed to wrap the sheet around himself.
"Nice view," she chuckled, surprised to see him blush.
Spike, modest? Unheard of! Not that he had something to hide.clothing on him was like covering a work of art. She shook herself mentally.it was bad enough she had thought that, but at least she hadn't said it aloud. But he rapidly got over his embarrassment and padded confidently from the room, throwing her a scorching look over his shoulder. She shivered at that look- it was like he was undressing her in a matter of milliseconds.
As he moved elsewhere in the house to find clothes and she waited in bed, staring at the ceiling, their thoughts were near identical. The other saw them as just a lust object, nothing to be respected or seen for who they really were. Yet they were both near desperate to act on the lust that they felt, acting like lovers already. How could there not be something else behind this, considering their colorful history? And then again, upon considering said history, maybe not. Life was so uncertain. Maybe the two of them were reaching out for anything solid they could hold onto.
The mansion had become their limbo, a world apart from everything and everyone else. What would happen when she was obligated to return? How did the confusing comfort they had discovered here fit into real life? But she was sure of one thing, she wanted.
"Hey there," a now-clothed Spike interrupted the reverie, bearing a bowl in his hands and saying with a jaunty grin. "Milk and cereal.no fire involved."
"I'll bet you poisoned it." Buffy made a face, but knew that the gesture was unnecessary, and therefore sweet. He had actually remembered a trivial part of a conversation.he was just full of surprises this morning.
"Won't know until you choke," he joked back, eyes shimmering with humor.
She hazarded a glance at the cereal, identifying exactly what it was. "You *are* trying to kill me.this stuff is nothing but pure sugar!"
"Can't pick your poison, luv," the vampire said, stubbornly extending the bowl out for her to take.
*If he only knew what poison I really wanted..*
"What if I tell you just where to put your cereal." she began, huffily taking the food when he glared at her. Shoving a couple bites in her mouth, she put it aside. "There."
"You sure you don't want more?" Spike asked with a miniature grin.
It was the kind of smile that said he already knew the answer, but was mentioning it just to get on her nerves. And he was so good at doing that. But for some reason, it wasn't just her nerves that were getting disturbed by this vamp.
"No more." Buffy affirmed irritably, before deciding to turn the tables. Blatantly moving her eyes over his chest to his face, she said in a sultry voice. "I can think of better things to do."
"Uh-huh," he advanced towards her, his fascinating cobalt eyes showing some captivation of their own. She shivered as he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "So unless you're in the mood for a game of chess, I suppose I shouldn't have bothered covering up."
"No.I mean, if you're more comfortable." She tripped over her words, cursing herself for losing her cool. She had started this, and the instant he joined in, her confident exterior fell away. Now he had proof she was just a little girl.all her experience to his was nothing. It had been a stupid idea to try seduction like this.
"Relax." Spike told her, blue eyes darting from her worried face to the white-knuckled fists she held on the bedspread. Her proposition had caught him off guard, though that didn't mean he wasn't aching for it. Still, she was nervous about something. "You don't need to do this.if you don't want."
"I want," she said with a deep breath, steadying herself to look the vampire in the eye. Then her face colored slightly, as she mentioned rather reasonably. "Unless you don't."
"Don't be ridiculous, pet," his voice came back, muffled by the t-shirt as he pulled it over his head.
"Definite improvement." Buffy said saucily, letting her eyes roam over his muscular chest.
Her self-esteem was restored by the confirmation that he was willing.and able, as evidenced by a fleeting glance down south. A bewitching smile flit across her lips, and she reached down, beginning to tug at the hem of her own shirt. His hand shot out and grabbed her own, forcing it to lie still on her thigh.
"Not yet," the platinum-blonde directed, his burning eyes and rakish smile holding her in a unique thrall. But the intense sensation was reciprocal.Buffy could see that in his gaze. "Just be patient, luv. We have time."
"True enough," she breathed, watching their clasped hands. Uncertain of what else to do, she shifted to put her weight on her elbows, the muscles in her leg shifting as she did so.
Looking up swiftly when he took in a breath, the blonde woman was satisfied to see the evident desire in his eyes. Then his hand moved and it was her turn to gasp. Numbed by the sight of his calloused palm sliding up her tanned leg, Buffy could only shiver, loath to stop him.
"Heightens the anticipation, doesn't it?" Spike asked her under his breath, leisurely continuing to trace a line up towards the apex of her legs.
"You're talking too much," she answered in a desperate whisper, needing more contact that his tantalizing touch was not providing.
"Still expecting you snap out of it, call me a pig, and sock me a good one on the jaw."
The only thing she did next was lunge forward and capture his lips, tongue darting in to banish any further words. She need not have worried; the vanilla scent and silky texture of her hair had rendered him beyond speech. They allowed their ruthless mouths to clash in a wave of intoxicating arousal. Somehow before the two of them drowned, he pulled away, his eyes gleaming with an instinctual impatience.
Responding in kind, she pulled him onto the bed, smiling mysteriously as he kneeled, still towering over her. That dark blue gaze was forcefully compelling as he lowered his torso to hers. She drew a breath, adjusting to the weight of his body and expecting that pale mouth to kiss her yet again. It was a complete surprise when the lips grazed her neck instead and continued a seductive path down.
When the vampire stopped at her breast and latched on, the blonde woman offered no protest, trying to respire evenly.but her heavily set eyelids showed she was far from relaxed. He was inflicting all kinds of torment, rather successful because the thin cotton of her t-shirt did little to make her not notice the ministrations. The action was ungodly intimate, made even more so when his hands entered the fray, caressing her sides and hips. She twisted under his skillful touch, this kind of gratification a gift and a curse all at once.
She finally got the presence of mind to reciprocate, bringing her arms between their bodies to unzip his jeans. Spike, for a split second, stopped what he was doing but immediately recovered, eliciting a gasp from her with a well-placed hand. Supposing this was his assent to have her 'wicked way', she moved away from the front of his pants teasingly slow, letting him consider just what she might have done. She snaked her hands around the curve of his back and tugged the denim down with surety, aiding the fabric down to his knees until he broke away and kicked them eagerly onto the floor. That was all the time it took for her to discard the t-shirt as well.
They stopped for a moment, he taking in the luxurious curves of her body and she the many powerful, sleek lines of his. Then she drew him closer, feeling that arrogant male beauty, urging him wordlessly to end foreplay. Their senses truthfully had been heightened ever since she had woken up from the battle, and arousal was no hard thing to achieve. Some small part of him worried he would hurt her, worried she hadn't healed enough yet. But when she wrapped her legs around his lean hips, he was inside her without any gentleness whatsoever, and as such was completely, irreversibly lost. Time and the rest of the world stopped, the pair's motions seeming to be the only ones that could sustain life.
And now his lips were against Buffy's throat, tasting, kissing, tiny bites along her veins. She could feel her thundering pulse through the light touches, and still he slid in and out, his rhythm joining with her racing heartbeat and ragged breaths, three merging into one and burning up the length of her body. Their muscles were filled with tension, something like adrenaline driving them on towards sated oblivion.
As Spike increased his rough tempo, some ageless force grew closer to them, spiraling up in waves of dizzying heat from deep within. They strained together, anticipating, finally reaching it, just within their grasp. Instinctively they knew it came from inside their bodies, and so dug further into each other, deeper and deeper. The power was volatile, wild, and for a split second of climax, they would touch it.
And then, innately knowing when the finish was most near, her inner muscles constricted and he delivered a final stroke. It was as if they shattered under the weight of orgasm, feeling that physical crescendo building and falling away, searing their souls as it went. They collapsed atop each other, unable to move until strength had returned to their bodies.
He was the first to move, pulling himself out from where he had been buried. He had found it a much sweeter place than the grave, though both were darkly mysterious, enticing. They sprawled on the bed, slick with sweat, looking absently at the ceiling. After about five minutes of weary aftermath, Buffy curved her arms around his neck, drawing their two bodies closer. Limbs entwined as if they were sharing strength, the exhausted couple drifted into dreamless sleep, absurdly comfortable in their nudity.
********** Buffy awoke slowly, still half convinced she was dreaming.but she knew the light touch feathering over her spine was just as nice, and wonderfully real. She groaned softly as she eased into full wakefulness, the noise muffled by the fact she was laying on her belly and in several pillows. A miracle she had not suffocated during the night.
"Morning, luv," a voice purred at the nape of her neck. The light brush of fingertips stopped and instead lips played over her skin, extracting another moan from the woman as she savored the tickling sensation. She had the right to luxuriate in this-waking up beside a partner was new.
"It's not fair." Buffy muttered drowsily, twisting her face around to look at his devilish grin. "You aren't even tired. Insatiable is what you are."
"Can you blame me?" Spike countered softly with an admiring smile. These words were rewarded by her hand twining around to find his.
"I'd say the same for you, but," she yawned widely, secretly pleased with his compliment. "Too sleepy to prove it."
"Guess I'll have to wait then," the vampire sighed with feigned melancholy, which rapidly changed into an insinuative smirk.
"I'll learn the secret of being a morning person someday," the Slayer grumbled, finally rolling over so she could see him. All of him.
It was an eyeful, and that wasn't just talking about his physical presence. All at once she was seeing everything about this man who had once been a monster, and an enemy even before that. Now she could not help but wonder why the whole picture had never been there before. Quick wits and experience made him an ally, a trustworthy, funny companion to those who could gain his trust. And now his toned body and unexpected kindnesses filled out the portrait of a perfect lover. But it was the tenderness and esteem in those blue eyes that completed him, as he was this moment in time.
Spike watched her perusal through eyelids as heavy as the thick wooden coffin he should have been residing in. Her thoughts were hidden to him, but whatever was on her face was not of animosity, more as if she had achieved some revelation. Certainly the night before he had, not only with Buffy, but also with himself. For the last weeks he had ignored the soul, its sporadic urgings of remorse put out of mind. But now it seemed part of him, as if by reaching deep to understand the girl, he had managed to quell the part of him that was unhappy with what he had become--William, as it were. The peace that had only come with the kill was now accessible without any effort. Or was that thanks to the golden-haired woman in his arms? No; they were one and the same.
There was assurance he was not like Angel, old kills not coming back to haunt him, plague his dreams. Buffy knew that, but pondered how exactly he had changed in their most recent encounter. He didn't seem willing to change his ways that drastically-like he had said, he had to eat to live. So maybe they weren't heading for a cozy tomb with a view.yet things were obviously different. Just how much were they willing to invest in whatever this relationship had become? And then she realized with a shock: those qualities, his qualities, which she had mused upon balanced hers perfectly. It was like she could only feel, could actually *live* when she was around him. Love.
The look in her hazel eyes intensified, and heat flooded his face. The vampire almost fidgeted under the weight of that gaze, nervously tousling his hair more than it already was. The Slayer bit her lower lip apprehensively, noticing his discomfort. Usually the predator, it was peculiar that her newfound lover was hesitant. That bothered her. It was as if he was holding back because of some irrational fear caused by her. Spike was waiting for the punchline of a colossal joke that ended dustily.
"Smile for me?" she asked wistfully, breaking their extended silence in a statement she hoped would reassure him she wasn't harboring second thoughts.
The puzzled half-smile he relinquished was not what she was looking for. Dissatisfied, she kissed him, a bold play that nonetheless employed no force. Gently setting electricity loose to run through their bodies, Buffy gradually disentangled herself from his questing lips. Looking at his face, she saw that her efforts to convey emotion had been successful. This time the smile from her dream was warming his azure eyes, nearly making his face angelic.
"I think I." Buffy faltered, then gathered her confidence, "I love you."
He gaped at her, not sure whether to be thrilled or disbelieving, settling for a mix of both. This was an unexpected twist that he had, admittedly, hoped for. And now the reality of it took awhile to sink in, coupled with the fact he didn't know what to say. A mere 'I love you too' seemed so trite, not to mention awkward. He was certain those words were true, but was it the kind of love she expected?
"You look like you're expecting a hidden camera crew to come out of the walls," she quipped as she settled herself under the sheets. Oddly, she understood his need to think but was unable to bear silence. So back they fell into irreverent conversation. "And reveal I'm really an 80-year-old guy."
"I hope I didn't just bang a man," Spike commented, sliding a hand under the bedsheets just to make sure. She tried not to cry out as he punctuated his drawling words. "That'd be a rotten trick."
"I meant it, you know." Buffy said timidly as she stopped his hand, not sure if he was avoiding the subject on purpose. "About."
"I know you did," the platinum-blonde cut her off, his eyes gleaming with a wealth of emotion. "I've felt the same way for awhile, just didn't think you'd take that very well."
"Up until that kiss in the crypt, probably not," she honestly admitted, "And even after, I would have thought you weren't capable of love."
"That was then. Do you believe me now?" the vampire questioned carefully, knowing he shouldn't put so much weight on that one question.but it was bloody important.
"Yes," the Slayer breathed, already enraptured by the happiness in his eyes. Was that same look in hers? It certainly felt that way.
Just then doubt stole into his face.
"No more of this 'you-have-a-soul' rot." Spike demanded with insecurity written all over him. "I'll love all of you, whether you do the same, but."
"Don't worry," she interrupted, sitting up to grab his bare shoulders. "You've proven yourself even before the soul.even if it left right now."
That in some ways appeased him, but because she didn't finish the thought, he decided to test her. She needed to be sure of what she was getting into.
Vamping out with a hungry smile, the bleached blonde remarked. "Well, that's convenient then."
Immediately, she jumped off the bed, mind reacting instinctively to the apparent danger. He was touched that she didn't try to kill him right away- that was a truer test than words would offer. Not that she could attack successfully right now, being both without weapons and stark naked.
"I should have known no man is capable of pillow talk without having ulterior motives." Buffy said with some amount of sadness but more hurt that this was happening to her again after Angelus. Both tones wrenched his unbeating heart.
Why had he not realized a violent trial like this would freak her out?. Instantly contrite, he returned to a human visage. The last thing he wanted her to think was that this was just about sex and a meal.it was about *her*. At least, it was to the rational side of him. The way she smiled when she was happy, even that serious brooding look when she was trying to think.which looked worlds better on her than it had on his grandsire. Beauty was just an added bonus to match her sharp tongue and unique brand of intelligence. How she always managed to know what to do even if it destroyed her.such strength was alluring.
And now she was watching him warily, wounded by the display he had put on and obviously not sure what to make of his motive for sleeping with her.
"Chatting afterwards is a rarity amongst the male of the species," he informed her with no trace of savagery in his face, merely an amused expression. "I'm more than happy to oblige, I'm just used to the bird preferring to go at it again."
That last was accompanied by a wicked grin, that one that melted her heart and other body parts. She finally realized that this had been some peculiar test of his. From the satisfied body language he was putting off, almost as noticeable as the 'See, I'm harmless' vibe, she was fairly certain she had passed. Still, she hadn't a clue why he had gone off on that tangent.
"I guess we need to finish talking about my rash declaration." Buffy said slowly, but did not move an inch from where she stood.
"Come here then." Spike coaxed her, leaning patiently on the bed and looking directly at her face.
That itself convinced her he was sincere-if he was in this for the sex , wouldn't he be staring at her exposed body? It was all too much to think about.
The sheets he lay under rippled as he brought his knees to his chin, adding whimsically, "Hey, I don't bite."
"Very funny." Buffy said caustically, nonetheless moving back to join him under the covers. His relieved smile dissipated as she hit him square in the chest to show her appreciation.
He rapidly reacted by flipping her over with a twist of the hips. Before she had time to gasp or try to get out from underneath him, he had grinded her deep into the mattress and fluffy pillows.
"Pillow talk, huh?" he reiterated devilishly, the weight of his body centered on his pelvis.
"It's not that I don't appreciate your other side," the Slayer managed to say as it rendered her breathless, "but I have to know if you really did lose the soul when we."
"I shouldn't have reminded you of what happened with Angelus," he said suddenly as he slid off her, obviously upset by his error. "I'm almost as much of an idiot as he was."
Stricken by *his* distress, Buffy let the comment about Angel wash over her unchallenged. What mattered right now was erasing the shame from her love's face.
"You did that for a reason, I know," she said shrewdly, rubbing the side of his face with a manicured hand. "I assume to emphasize your badness?"
"Yeah," the vampire confirmed softly, looking into her face worriedly. "I need you to understand that the soul isn't me.maybe one day I won't listen to it, go and kill."
"Do you think that's all that matters to me? I can handle that part of you, Spike. What scares me is you'll get too carried away with brooding over the soul and somehow decide *I'm* too good for you.your emotions are a much more uncertain thing right now, and we're all alone in life, and can't we just forget about consequences?"
In response to her ardent words, he enfolded her in his arms, feeling incredibly blessed that she felt the way she did. He realized she was tearing up a little when he detected dampness on his shoulder. Moving her face away from the shelter of his body, the vampire kissed the exquisite but needless tears away. Placing a final kiss on her lips, he pulled back and looked at her earnestly.
"You can just be my soul then, love." Spike whispered against her mouth before claiming it yet again.
"Agreed." Buffy murmured, smiling at his handsome face, made even more so by the contented air of their bedroom. For once she could tell the difference between his 'luv' and 'love'-that was somewhat handy.
"And if that soul gets lost," he concluded, speaking between drawing her lips closer and tempting their tongues to battle. "I'll know who to blame, won't I?"
She just snuggled close to him, a tiny secretive smile on her lips at the sudden thought of how her friends and mother would react to their newly forged relationship.
"Worst thing about this job," the Slayer sighed wretchedly. "Everyone always blames me."
He flashed her a knowing, purely male smirk as she finished talking. She flushed at the wicked look in his eyes, but was intrigued as well. This was a man who knew what he was doing, whether in battle or bed.and damn, was he good at both.
"You want to know what else is your fault?" he asked as she wriggled against to him to get comfortable. She raised a questioning brow, and so he guided her hand to a certain thing that was all of her doing.
"Spike." she breathed huskily, and that was his undoing.
They fell deeper into each other, or maybe they had been falling all along.