Disclaimer: No, it's not mine. Quit asking!
Feedback: Yes, ma'am.
Author's note: Sorry if this chappie took a little long, I've been busy with finals and graduation and all that junk. Hope you like.
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'Call my name and
Save me from the dark
Bid my blood to run
Before I come undone
Save me from the nothing I've become.'
'Bring Me To Life' - Evanescence
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Carl pointed at his neck with a practiced ease; the hand-gestures were the funniest bit of all. He had to get this joke right, he just had to. If he didn't, all of his hard work, all of those weeks of brown-nosing would be for naught. Any missteps might cost him his (rightfully earned, in his opinion) place in the group. And he was sick of being a solitary vampire, a lone wolf. It was cool for a while, and a great way to pick up chicks - until they learned that he still slept with some of the dirt from his old gravesite. It wasn't wussy; he didn't care what they said.
On second thought, he did. And that was why this moment was crucial.
"And then I said: no, that was her jugular!"
Carl glanced nervously at the group of vampires surrounding him. He swallowed, wringing his hands together in front of him to stop them from shaking. They weren't laughing. In fact, upon further scrutiny, they looked like they'd enjoy ripping him to pieces more than anything else. He cleared his throat, chuckling awkwardly.
"Um, you see, the jugular wasn't the name of -"
He was cut off by a large hand squeezing his throat and cutting off his windpipe. The muscular hand belonged to Leonard, the leader of this particular gang. He glared at Carl menacingly, digging his fingers into the tender flesh of his neck.
"I heard you the first time," Leonard growled. One of the minions next to him chuckled evilly, folding his hands in front of himself.
"You shouldn't have made him mad," the minion said, a smug grin plastered on his face.
"Shut up," Leonard said, his gaze never wavering from the vampire held in front of him, "I didn't ask for your opinion. Now what do you think I should do to you, Carl?" he asked his prone captive.
Carl squirmed in the tight grasp. "I-I'm sorry," he choked out, "I didn't mean to offend anyone. I'm sorry, Leonard, please give me another chance."
Leonard sunk his fingers into Carl's throat, his eyes narrowing. "How many times do I have to tell you people, it's T-bone now! Leonard was my human name," he huffed.
"T-bone? Like that big, brainless hunk of meat?"
The group of vampires turned at the sound of the calm voice behind them. Leonard's eyes widened and he dropped Carl to the floor in shock.
"Couldn't have come up with a better name myself," Angelus finished, twirling a pool cue between his fingers gracefully, "But then I've never been about titles. Scourge of Europe sounds like such an ego trip; people don't seem to realize that it wasn't my idea. I'm just so . . . Scourge- y."
"Angelus?" Leonard said, taking a few small steps from the leather-clad vampire, "Is that really you?"
"In the flesh," he said, a wide smile spreading his features.
"Wow, it's been ages. What're you up to?" he asked tentatively.
"Oh, you know, ending world peace, destroying Slayers. Actually just one, but she's a bitch to kill. But enough about me - the real question is: how are you, buddy?" In a flash Angelus has invaded his space, one arm wrapped fondly around the other vampire's back as if they were best of friends. Leonard froze - he dared not move for fear of upsetting the master vampire clinging to him. They were both aware of how Angelus was invading his privacy, and just how much he enjoyed it.
"Okay," came the hesitant response, "recently the gang and I have been -"
"That's great, Bony," Angelus drawled, cutting him off, "I was wondering if you would mind doing me a favor." A grin crossed his face as he felt Leonard tense at his words, felt the delicious tremor of fear run down the younger vampire's spine. Fear. God, how he'd missed it.
"Uh, sure," he said, looking up at Angelus with poorly-masked apprehension, "I guess I could do that."
"Great! I knew I could count on you!"
In one deft move, Angelus dropped his grip and drove the pool cue through the hearts of two minions. As the remaining four rushed him, he took them out in a similar fashion, never batting an eye. "Now the thing of it is," he continued, ignoring the stunned look on Leonard's face, "I acquired this nifty little toy, and I really need someone to test it out on. And who comes to mind but the big filet minion."
"What the hell was that," Leonard bellowed, "You just took out six of my best minions!"
"Those were your best?" he asked incredulously, "Well, I guess it makes sense. When you're following someone named after a piece of a cow . . ."
"You can't just come back to town and try something like -"
"Have you ever seen one of these?" Angelus interrupted, holding up a small, glass orb between his fingers, seemingly studying it. "Neat little trinket, if it works like it's supposed to," he continued, "Thing of it is, I've never seen it in action. And that's what I need you for, Lenny - you're going to be my test subject."
"Get away from me," Leonard growled, backing away, "Drop that thing right now, or . . . or you'll pay."
"Whatever you want."
Angelus held his hands up in surrender, and the ball fell about two feet before catching itself. It rose into the air, glowing an otherworldly blue. "Nimphata carneus paralisya," he recited, watching with emphatic glee as an ethereal mist enveloped Leonard, hovering around his body.
Leonard snarled and moved to charge Angelus, but found that his legs would not respond. Wouldn't move. Despite the fact that they seemed altogether dead, they still managed to hold the vampire upright. He balled his hands into fists, a frothy mixture of blood and spittle forming at the corners of his mouth.
"What is this?" he demanded, twisting his body, hoping to escape the mystical bonds.
"Simple paralysis spell," Angelus replied, grinning, "Well, actually, not so simple. Practically irreversible, unless you're into that Hogwarts crap. But by the looks of you, I'm guessing you're not so much into witchcraft as you are screaming and dying. Not that that's not something we've all been looking forward to seeing for a long time now." Angelus turned to Carl, who was lying on the floor looking up at the two of them with wide, startled eyes.
"Isn't that right?"
Carl swallowed thickly, scrambling from his position on the floor and darting for the exit. Before he could make it halfway there, he was stopped by Drusilla's slender form.
"Not time to leave," she whispered, "Not until it's done."
"I have to go," Carl urged her, darting his eyes back to Angelus nervously, "He's going to kill me."
Drusilla placed a slim digit up to his lips to quiet him. "Shush, little mouse," she cooed, "Daddy wouldn't dare harm a hair on your sweet, round head. He needs you to help him. To help our family."
"Oh, God," he murmured, taking a step back from the brunette, "You're one of his minions!"
"Not a minion," she huffed, "His Childe. Minions are dirty things."
Carl bolted for the door, but Drusilla stepped in front of him, catching him in her arms. Turning him around to face Angelus, she twisted his arms back until he cried out. She smiled, moving her lips to his ear. "Just watch," she whispered, "Just look at the pretty pictures. They speak the story so well."
He watched in horror as Leonard squirmed in his place, his eyes wild and desperate. Angelus was presently relaxing on a barstool and viewing the events unfolding with obvious glee. "Are you familiar with the legend of Medusa?" he asked casually. Leonard struggled against the mist, ignoring the question. Angelus continued: "In ancient times, men that looked upon her were supposed to have turned to stone. Don't know how she did it, exactly; maybe she had one of these."
"Y-you're turning me to stone?" Leonard asked, his voice shaky and terrified.
"Hey, maybe you're not as dumb as you look!" Angelus said, caressing the small glass orb in one hand, "All it took was a blatant explanation and you figured it out."
"Why?"
"Why not? I had to have someone to try it on, you were just convenient. No hard feelings, I hope." He chuckled, his eyes trailing over the granite that was already covering about three fourths of the vampire's body. "Well, I guess you can't have anything but hard feelings pretty soon."
"Please, don't! I'll do anything!"
"Hmm, tempting . . . but I think I'd rather watch you die."
He turned his gaze to Drusilla, who was watching the scene unfold with childlike excitement. "What do you say, Dru," he asked, "Should I finish this?"
"Yes, Daddy," she said, "Please do. Teach him to be good."
Leonard looked up at Angelus with terrified eyes, but he just smiled apologetically. "Sorry, but the lady gets what the lady wants." He placed the orb on the table in front of him, and it rose once more. "Sinniforium palasidia nocturnum."
A single beam of intense blue shot out from the glass ball and straight into Leonard, covering him with a blinding light. After a few seconds, the light faded, and a granite statue of a vampire was left in its wake. Drusilla let go of Carl and began to clap, hopping up and down with glee. "Do it again, do it again!"
"I will," he promised, getting up from his seat to inspect Leonard, "But later. First, I have to talk to a certain someone." Angelus turned to Carl, a beaming smile on his face. "I need your help."
Carl backed away slowly, his throat dry from fear. "Me? Y-you wouldn't want me. I'm a screw up, I tell bad jokes, and -"
"You're just what I need," Angelus interrupted, his voice calm and deadly, "So I'm going to make you a deal."
"What if I don't take it?" he stammered, "What if I don't?"
Angelus stopped, a scowl creasing his features. In one swift motion, he pushed the stone-Leonard over. Carl flinched as it toppled to the floor, shattering in a million pieces, granite spilling every which way. Angelus smiled.
"Something tells me that you will."
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
"Rocky!"
Spike turned to her, eyebrows drawn up in surprise. "Come again?"
"You know, that boxing guy," Buffy explained, curling her hand around a stake, "That's what we remind me of."
"Both of us remind you of one person," Spike said, perplexed, "How does that work, then?"
"We're both fighters that never give up. We're champions," she explained, her voice beaming with pride.
"You don't know how sick I am of that word," Spike said, exasperated, "For the love of Satan, please don't use it to describe me."
"What word?" Buffy asked, "Fighters? Because that's what we do. I fight vampires and you fight . . . vampires, oddly enough."
"No, champion," he replied, the disgust in his voice evident, "Oh, Angel, you're such a champion," Spike said in a high falsetto, "You're my one true champion." His voice came down to its regular pitch. "Give me a soddin' break."
"Okay then, just fighters. Ooh, like Captain America!"
"Not from the states, here, love. And I don't want to be Captain anything. Sounds all fruity to me."
"Fine then," Buffy pouted, "What do you want to be? Commander Britain?"
"Enough with the poncy names," he said, "That's all that you've been talking about for the last half hour!"
"Well, then, you come up with a better way to spend our time patrolling," she huffed, "We haven't seen anything remotely evil in hours."
"I don't know, that shrub over there looks pretty menacing," he joked, "And that tree could be just waiting to take a bite out of you."
"Really?" she asked, curious, "There are tree demons? Maybe I should -"
"Buffy," he said, sighing, "It's just a tree. Look, unless you want to wander the cemetery for another four hours, I think we need to call it a night."
"You're right," Buffy admitted, kicking a rock with her boot, "I know that it's time to call it quits. I just don't want to go home."
"Walk me back to my crypt?" Spike asked, grinning, "Wouldn't let a poor vamp go home alone in the dark like this, would you? Fella could get mugged."
"Maybe I could do that," she said, taking his hand in hers as he led her up the path towards his abode.
They walked in silence for some time before reaching the solid cement structure. Spike was the first to pull from her, and opened the front door tentatively. "Looks like we're here," he said, leaning in to give her a slight kiss on the cheek.
"Yeah."
Spike sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Guess you should get going, then. Don't want to keep you from your studies and all that."
"Spike?" Buffy asked, a slight smile playing on her face, "Can I come in for a minute?"
He looked over at her, surprised. "Sure, if you want."
Buffy took his hand and led him into the crypt, her eyes taking in her surroundings and doing her best to keep it stored in her memory. Spike looked at the empty cartons of blood with disgust. "Uh, sorry for the mess," he said, embarrassed, "Didn't know I'd be having company."
"It's okay," Buffy said, dropping his hand and glancing around the room. "Hey, where's the bed?" she asked.
"What?" he started, unsure of what he had heard and what the implications might be.
"You know, the place where you sleep. Is it a coffin, or is that too Hollywood?"
"I'm not bloody Dracula," Spike snorted, "I sleep in a bed, yeah, it's downstairs. Saves space and all that."
Buffy walked over to the hole in the ground, and smiled. "Wow, when you said downstairs, you really weren't kidding." She started down the ladder and Spike followed her carefully.
"Don't trip," he warned as she stepped down to the floor. Buffy spun around and leapt onto the bed, giggling.
"Wow, it's so bouncy," she exclaimed, hopping up and down on the mattress. Spike walked over to her quickly, attempting to steady her with his hand.
"Be careful, love, don't want to break it now," he cautioned, "S'the only bed I got."
Buffy stopped jumping and put on a pouty face. "Okay, I'll stop. But you know what would be better?"
"What's that, pet?"
She grabbed his arm and flipped him onto the bed with her, laughing at the surprise on his face. "If you join me," she finished, grabbing his hand and making him bounce with her. A few minutes later, she collapsed onto the bed in giggles. Spike stopped jumping and laid down, holding her in his arms. Buffy looked up at him and slipped her hands around his head, pulling him down to her for a kiss. After a few minutes she pulled away, panting.
"God, Slayer, you're beautiful," Spike exclaimed. Buffy put two fingers on his lips to quiet him.
"No, not Slayer. No titles, remember? No Chosen One, no vampire . . . just us. Just Spike and Buffy. Can we do that?" she asked quietly, "Can we be ourselves, just for tonight?"
"I was always being myself with you, pet," he replied, smiling, "Didn't know I was supposed to be anything else."
Buffy sighed, stroking the back of his neck with her fingers. "You're not. You're perfect the way you are."
He grinned, leaning in for another kiss. "I can live with that."
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
To be Continued . . .
Feedback: Yes, ma'am.
Author's note: Sorry if this chappie took a little long, I've been busy with finals and graduation and all that junk. Hope you like.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
'Call my name and
Save me from the dark
Bid my blood to run
Before I come undone
Save me from the nothing I've become.'
'Bring Me To Life' - Evanescence
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Carl pointed at his neck with a practiced ease; the hand-gestures were the funniest bit of all. He had to get this joke right, he just had to. If he didn't, all of his hard work, all of those weeks of brown-nosing would be for naught. Any missteps might cost him his (rightfully earned, in his opinion) place in the group. And he was sick of being a solitary vampire, a lone wolf. It was cool for a while, and a great way to pick up chicks - until they learned that he still slept with some of the dirt from his old gravesite. It wasn't wussy; he didn't care what they said.
On second thought, he did. And that was why this moment was crucial.
"And then I said: no, that was her jugular!"
Carl glanced nervously at the group of vampires surrounding him. He swallowed, wringing his hands together in front of him to stop them from shaking. They weren't laughing. In fact, upon further scrutiny, they looked like they'd enjoy ripping him to pieces more than anything else. He cleared his throat, chuckling awkwardly.
"Um, you see, the jugular wasn't the name of -"
He was cut off by a large hand squeezing his throat and cutting off his windpipe. The muscular hand belonged to Leonard, the leader of this particular gang. He glared at Carl menacingly, digging his fingers into the tender flesh of his neck.
"I heard you the first time," Leonard growled. One of the minions next to him chuckled evilly, folding his hands in front of himself.
"You shouldn't have made him mad," the minion said, a smug grin plastered on his face.
"Shut up," Leonard said, his gaze never wavering from the vampire held in front of him, "I didn't ask for your opinion. Now what do you think I should do to you, Carl?" he asked his prone captive.
Carl squirmed in the tight grasp. "I-I'm sorry," he choked out, "I didn't mean to offend anyone. I'm sorry, Leonard, please give me another chance."
Leonard sunk his fingers into Carl's throat, his eyes narrowing. "How many times do I have to tell you people, it's T-bone now! Leonard was my human name," he huffed.
"T-bone? Like that big, brainless hunk of meat?"
The group of vampires turned at the sound of the calm voice behind them. Leonard's eyes widened and he dropped Carl to the floor in shock.
"Couldn't have come up with a better name myself," Angelus finished, twirling a pool cue between his fingers gracefully, "But then I've never been about titles. Scourge of Europe sounds like such an ego trip; people don't seem to realize that it wasn't my idea. I'm just so . . . Scourge- y."
"Angelus?" Leonard said, taking a few small steps from the leather-clad vampire, "Is that really you?"
"In the flesh," he said, a wide smile spreading his features.
"Wow, it's been ages. What're you up to?" he asked tentatively.
"Oh, you know, ending world peace, destroying Slayers. Actually just one, but she's a bitch to kill. But enough about me - the real question is: how are you, buddy?" In a flash Angelus has invaded his space, one arm wrapped fondly around the other vampire's back as if they were best of friends. Leonard froze - he dared not move for fear of upsetting the master vampire clinging to him. They were both aware of how Angelus was invading his privacy, and just how much he enjoyed it.
"Okay," came the hesitant response, "recently the gang and I have been -"
"That's great, Bony," Angelus drawled, cutting him off, "I was wondering if you would mind doing me a favor." A grin crossed his face as he felt Leonard tense at his words, felt the delicious tremor of fear run down the younger vampire's spine. Fear. God, how he'd missed it.
"Uh, sure," he said, looking up at Angelus with poorly-masked apprehension, "I guess I could do that."
"Great! I knew I could count on you!"
In one deft move, Angelus dropped his grip and drove the pool cue through the hearts of two minions. As the remaining four rushed him, he took them out in a similar fashion, never batting an eye. "Now the thing of it is," he continued, ignoring the stunned look on Leonard's face, "I acquired this nifty little toy, and I really need someone to test it out on. And who comes to mind but the big filet minion."
"What the hell was that," Leonard bellowed, "You just took out six of my best minions!"
"Those were your best?" he asked incredulously, "Well, I guess it makes sense. When you're following someone named after a piece of a cow . . ."
"You can't just come back to town and try something like -"
"Have you ever seen one of these?" Angelus interrupted, holding up a small, glass orb between his fingers, seemingly studying it. "Neat little trinket, if it works like it's supposed to," he continued, "Thing of it is, I've never seen it in action. And that's what I need you for, Lenny - you're going to be my test subject."
"Get away from me," Leonard growled, backing away, "Drop that thing right now, or . . . or you'll pay."
"Whatever you want."
Angelus held his hands up in surrender, and the ball fell about two feet before catching itself. It rose into the air, glowing an otherworldly blue. "Nimphata carneus paralisya," he recited, watching with emphatic glee as an ethereal mist enveloped Leonard, hovering around his body.
Leonard snarled and moved to charge Angelus, but found that his legs would not respond. Wouldn't move. Despite the fact that they seemed altogether dead, they still managed to hold the vampire upright. He balled his hands into fists, a frothy mixture of blood and spittle forming at the corners of his mouth.
"What is this?" he demanded, twisting his body, hoping to escape the mystical bonds.
"Simple paralysis spell," Angelus replied, grinning, "Well, actually, not so simple. Practically irreversible, unless you're into that Hogwarts crap. But by the looks of you, I'm guessing you're not so much into witchcraft as you are screaming and dying. Not that that's not something we've all been looking forward to seeing for a long time now." Angelus turned to Carl, who was lying on the floor looking up at the two of them with wide, startled eyes.
"Isn't that right?"
Carl swallowed thickly, scrambling from his position on the floor and darting for the exit. Before he could make it halfway there, he was stopped by Drusilla's slender form.
"Not time to leave," she whispered, "Not until it's done."
"I have to go," Carl urged her, darting his eyes back to Angelus nervously, "He's going to kill me."
Drusilla placed a slim digit up to his lips to quiet him. "Shush, little mouse," she cooed, "Daddy wouldn't dare harm a hair on your sweet, round head. He needs you to help him. To help our family."
"Oh, God," he murmured, taking a step back from the brunette, "You're one of his minions!"
"Not a minion," she huffed, "His Childe. Minions are dirty things."
Carl bolted for the door, but Drusilla stepped in front of him, catching him in her arms. Turning him around to face Angelus, she twisted his arms back until he cried out. She smiled, moving her lips to his ear. "Just watch," she whispered, "Just look at the pretty pictures. They speak the story so well."
He watched in horror as Leonard squirmed in his place, his eyes wild and desperate. Angelus was presently relaxing on a barstool and viewing the events unfolding with obvious glee. "Are you familiar with the legend of Medusa?" he asked casually. Leonard struggled against the mist, ignoring the question. Angelus continued: "In ancient times, men that looked upon her were supposed to have turned to stone. Don't know how she did it, exactly; maybe she had one of these."
"Y-you're turning me to stone?" Leonard asked, his voice shaky and terrified.
"Hey, maybe you're not as dumb as you look!" Angelus said, caressing the small glass orb in one hand, "All it took was a blatant explanation and you figured it out."
"Why?"
"Why not? I had to have someone to try it on, you were just convenient. No hard feelings, I hope." He chuckled, his eyes trailing over the granite that was already covering about three fourths of the vampire's body. "Well, I guess you can't have anything but hard feelings pretty soon."
"Please, don't! I'll do anything!"
"Hmm, tempting . . . but I think I'd rather watch you die."
He turned his gaze to Drusilla, who was watching the scene unfold with childlike excitement. "What do you say, Dru," he asked, "Should I finish this?"
"Yes, Daddy," she said, "Please do. Teach him to be good."
Leonard looked up at Angelus with terrified eyes, but he just smiled apologetically. "Sorry, but the lady gets what the lady wants." He placed the orb on the table in front of him, and it rose once more. "Sinniforium palasidia nocturnum."
A single beam of intense blue shot out from the glass ball and straight into Leonard, covering him with a blinding light. After a few seconds, the light faded, and a granite statue of a vampire was left in its wake. Drusilla let go of Carl and began to clap, hopping up and down with glee. "Do it again, do it again!"
"I will," he promised, getting up from his seat to inspect Leonard, "But later. First, I have to talk to a certain someone." Angelus turned to Carl, a beaming smile on his face. "I need your help."
Carl backed away slowly, his throat dry from fear. "Me? Y-you wouldn't want me. I'm a screw up, I tell bad jokes, and -"
"You're just what I need," Angelus interrupted, his voice calm and deadly, "So I'm going to make you a deal."
"What if I don't take it?" he stammered, "What if I don't?"
Angelus stopped, a scowl creasing his features. In one swift motion, he pushed the stone-Leonard over. Carl flinched as it toppled to the floor, shattering in a million pieces, granite spilling every which way. Angelus smiled.
"Something tells me that you will."
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
"Rocky!"
Spike turned to her, eyebrows drawn up in surprise. "Come again?"
"You know, that boxing guy," Buffy explained, curling her hand around a stake, "That's what we remind me of."
"Both of us remind you of one person," Spike said, perplexed, "How does that work, then?"
"We're both fighters that never give up. We're champions," she explained, her voice beaming with pride.
"You don't know how sick I am of that word," Spike said, exasperated, "For the love of Satan, please don't use it to describe me."
"What word?" Buffy asked, "Fighters? Because that's what we do. I fight vampires and you fight . . . vampires, oddly enough."
"No, champion," he replied, the disgust in his voice evident, "Oh, Angel, you're such a champion," Spike said in a high falsetto, "You're my one true champion." His voice came down to its regular pitch. "Give me a soddin' break."
"Okay then, just fighters. Ooh, like Captain America!"
"Not from the states, here, love. And I don't want to be Captain anything. Sounds all fruity to me."
"Fine then," Buffy pouted, "What do you want to be? Commander Britain?"
"Enough with the poncy names," he said, "That's all that you've been talking about for the last half hour!"
"Well, then, you come up with a better way to spend our time patrolling," she huffed, "We haven't seen anything remotely evil in hours."
"I don't know, that shrub over there looks pretty menacing," he joked, "And that tree could be just waiting to take a bite out of you."
"Really?" she asked, curious, "There are tree demons? Maybe I should -"
"Buffy," he said, sighing, "It's just a tree. Look, unless you want to wander the cemetery for another four hours, I think we need to call it a night."
"You're right," Buffy admitted, kicking a rock with her boot, "I know that it's time to call it quits. I just don't want to go home."
"Walk me back to my crypt?" Spike asked, grinning, "Wouldn't let a poor vamp go home alone in the dark like this, would you? Fella could get mugged."
"Maybe I could do that," she said, taking his hand in hers as he led her up the path towards his abode.
They walked in silence for some time before reaching the solid cement structure. Spike was the first to pull from her, and opened the front door tentatively. "Looks like we're here," he said, leaning in to give her a slight kiss on the cheek.
"Yeah."
Spike sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Guess you should get going, then. Don't want to keep you from your studies and all that."
"Spike?" Buffy asked, a slight smile playing on her face, "Can I come in for a minute?"
He looked over at her, surprised. "Sure, if you want."
Buffy took his hand and led him into the crypt, her eyes taking in her surroundings and doing her best to keep it stored in her memory. Spike looked at the empty cartons of blood with disgust. "Uh, sorry for the mess," he said, embarrassed, "Didn't know I'd be having company."
"It's okay," Buffy said, dropping his hand and glancing around the room. "Hey, where's the bed?" she asked.
"What?" he started, unsure of what he had heard and what the implications might be.
"You know, the place where you sleep. Is it a coffin, or is that too Hollywood?"
"I'm not bloody Dracula," Spike snorted, "I sleep in a bed, yeah, it's downstairs. Saves space and all that."
Buffy walked over to the hole in the ground, and smiled. "Wow, when you said downstairs, you really weren't kidding." She started down the ladder and Spike followed her carefully.
"Don't trip," he warned as she stepped down to the floor. Buffy spun around and leapt onto the bed, giggling.
"Wow, it's so bouncy," she exclaimed, hopping up and down on the mattress. Spike walked over to her quickly, attempting to steady her with his hand.
"Be careful, love, don't want to break it now," he cautioned, "S'the only bed I got."
Buffy stopped jumping and put on a pouty face. "Okay, I'll stop. But you know what would be better?"
"What's that, pet?"
She grabbed his arm and flipped him onto the bed with her, laughing at the surprise on his face. "If you join me," she finished, grabbing his hand and making him bounce with her. A few minutes later, she collapsed onto the bed in giggles. Spike stopped jumping and laid down, holding her in his arms. Buffy looked up at him and slipped her hands around his head, pulling him down to her for a kiss. After a few minutes she pulled away, panting.
"God, Slayer, you're beautiful," Spike exclaimed. Buffy put two fingers on his lips to quiet him.
"No, not Slayer. No titles, remember? No Chosen One, no vampire . . . just us. Just Spike and Buffy. Can we do that?" she asked quietly, "Can we be ourselves, just for tonight?"
"I was always being myself with you, pet," he replied, smiling, "Didn't know I was supposed to be anything else."
Buffy sighed, stroking the back of his neck with her fingers. "You're not. You're perfect the way you are."
He grinned, leaning in for another kiss. "I can live with that."
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
To be Continued . . .
