A/N Thanks everyone for the great reviews, they were much appreciated!
Chapter 4
Spike looked out of the plane window at a country he'd never really expected to revisit again, the last time he'd been here, Dru had been with him. Spike sighed; was nothing forever these days? He thought sadly.
"Welcome to England," said the stewardess, seemingly eager to be rid of them both as she hastily opened the aeroplane door
"Sorry love, slight problem, its called daylight," said Spike as he pointed through the window.
"That's why we carry these!" snapped the girl, as she threw a thick blanket at his head.
Buffy smiled sweetly at the girl as if she were her new best friend.
"Mr Travers will be waiting for you in the airport," the stewardess informed them.
"Who the hell is he when he's at home?" asked Spike, looking at Buffy.
"Quentin Travers, he's the head honcho of the Watchers council, not my most favourite of people," Buffy replied.
"Oh, now you've disappointed me, I thought I held that title," grinned Spike.
Buffy couldn't help but giggle at his impish expression. He was quite the charmer when he wanted to be, and away from their usual setting he somehow seemed different. Buffy shook her head; she couldn't allow him to get under her skin like this. Maybe it wouldn't harm to call a truce for a few days, it might make things a little easier. Buffy looked at Spike, about to open her mouth, when he'd put the blanket over his head and dashed off in the direction of the airport's main building.
Buffy turned her attention back to the stewardess,
"Thanks for everything," she smiled at the girl.
"All part of the service, I just wanted to say sorry for earlier," said the stewardess.
"Why?" Asked Buffy, not really sure what the girl was getting at.
"I did a bad thing, I tried to hit on your boyfriend," she replied.
"You tried to hit on my whatty? He's not my boyfriend! Why would you say that?" Buffy asked.
"Oh, it's just that." the girl trailed off.
"What?" demanded Buffy.
"Well, er during the flight when you fell asleep, I saw him cover you with a blanket and you took his hand and kissed it, thought it was kinda sweet at the time," she replied.
Buffy flushed, as she remembered having a hazy dream, and in it, her mother had come and tucked her in, like when she was a little girl. She had kissed Spike's hand? 'Well you've kissed at lot more than that before' her annoying inner voice reminded her.
"Sure he wasn't trying to smother me with the blanket?" asked Buffy, her thoughts in confusion.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Spike was waiting for her when she entered the double doors, a strange expression on her face.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Nothing, oh look I think that's for us," said Buffy as she noticed a man dressed in a chauffeurs uniform, he was holding up a card with her name on it.
She grabbed Spike by the arm and walked over to the man.
"Buffy Summers?" asked the man, as he looked down his nose at her.
"Yep," she answered brightly.
"Follow me," he replied as he turned and walked away.
"But, our luggage?" asked Buffy.
"Already taken care of," he replied.
They had nothing else to do, but trail after the man, as he escorted them to a waiting limousine, Spike let out a low whistle.
"Guess Rupes was right about the buggers being well funded, thought that was just a sweetener to get me here," said Spike.
"Not every one tells lies like you Spike," she replied.
The chauffer opened the limo door. Quentin Travers, senior member of the watchers council alighted from the vehicle.
"Oh God! Do tweed suits come as standard issue among you watcher types?" asked Spike.
Buffy suppressed the giggle she felt rising in her throat; Quentin turned a stern look in Spike's direction.
"Hmmmm, you must be William?" asked Quentin.
"Why do I feel that was more of a statement than a question?" asked Spike.
Quentin ignored him and moved onto Buffy.
"I trust your flight was comfortable Miss Summers, nice to see you again," he drawled, putting out a hand
"Yes on the first count and not so much on the second," said Buffy.
She stared at the outstretched hand and deliberately folded her arms.
"If you'd like to join me in the limo, we can escort you to your accommodation, ladies first," said Quentin.
"Thanks mate, don't mind if I do," said Spike as he brushed past Quentin and seated himself inside the luxury of the car.
"That figures," said Buffy as she joined him in the car, soon to be followed by Quentin.
The Limo managed to weave expertly through the early evening traffic.
"So why do you want us here?" asked Buffy bluntly.
"All in good time Miss Summers, how is Mr Giles?" he asked.
"Oh, you mean since you fired him after years of loyal service to the council?" asked Buffy sarcastically.
"Rupert's become quite the bum, sits around all day watching soaps and getting pissed," Spike informed him smugly.
"Gotta be better than working for a bunch of stuck up English prigs," said Buffy defensively.
"Very concisely put Miss Summers," Quentin returned.
"Oh Buffy has a way with words, 'Spike you are such a pig,' is her favourite," he mimicked.
"I am also good with my hands," mouthed Buffy as she made a staking motion with her hand.
"Is that an offer love, you could at least wait until we get to the hotel," said Spike, as he licked his lips.
Buffy blushed as she saw Quentin's raised eyebrows, she had forgotten how that same hand movement had looked to her friends, when they had silently discussed ways of defeating the gentlemen.
Quentin sighed and checked his watch; it was at least a forty-five minute drive to the hotel.
"Would any of you like a drink?" he offered as he opened up the mini bar in the limo.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
They drove down the Strand, coming to a stop outside the "Savoy" hotel.
"Gotta hand it to you Travers, when you said all expenses paid, you weren't joking," said Spike.
"We have a reputation to uphold," said Quentin looking at his watch yet again.
"Do you have somewhere else you have to be?" asked Buffy arching an eyebrow at him.
"As a matter of fact I do, you'll have to check yourselves in, how about we meet in the American bar say around nine? It's inside the hotel, you can't miss it," said Quentin.
"What about money to pay for it?" asked Buffy, pointing at the hotel.
"Thank you for reminding me Miss Summers, the hotel is taken care of, we have an account here," said Quentin as he drew a large buff coloured envelope from his jacket.
"What's this?" asked Spike.
"Room number, booking confirmation and a little pin money until we can compensate you more substantially," said Quentin.
"I'll look after that," said Spike as he took the envelope from Quentin.
The chauffeur opened the limo door and a porter came forward from the hotel to take in their cases, Quentin lowered the window of the limo.
"Don't forget nine o'clock in the American bar," he reminded them as the car pulled away from the kerb.
Buffy marched through the doors of the hotel, leaving Spike to stare at the departing limo, he wasn't sure if his ears had deceived him when that bugger had said 'Room'
"Nah he wouldn't," said Spike softly under his breath.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
When Spike entered the lobby of the hotel, he saw the object of his 'affections', leaning over the reception desk, her head bent as she signed the guest book. A young man dressed in hotel uniform stood behind it.
"Thank you Madam, ah this must be the other half of your party, here are your keys," said the man as he handed them both smart card keys.
He then signalled to a boy who was standing around.
"Hi I'm Malcolm, let me show you to your rooms," he smiled at them,
*Hoping for a big tip are you boy?* Spike thought to himself.
Spike and Buffy followed Malcolm into the elevator.
"So how are you liking England so far, you're American right?" asked Malcolm.
"I'm American, Spike here is well I'm not sure what he is," said Buffy sarcastically.
"English, born, bred and sired," Spike informed him proudly.
Spike lit up a cigarette, he drew on it deeply. Buffy made a delicate coughing sound as she waved away the smoke.
"I'm sorry Sir, but I am going to have to ask you to put that out, there is a no smoking policy in the public areas of the hotel," Malcolm informed him.
"Oh for God's sake!" said Spike, he stubbed the cigarette out on the wall of the elevator and let the butt fall to the floor.
The elevator doors opened with a ping.
"Your suite is at the end of the corridor, it's one of the best we have, Mr Travers is a respected client of ours," said Malcolm.
The boy drew out a chain from his pocket and swiped the card across the security panel on the door, he turned the handle and opened it.
"Oh wow! It's beautiful," Buffy exclaimed.
"It's our deluxe river view junior suite, I know it's a little dark out there now, but come the morning, you will have spectacular views of the River Thames, now if you need anything, we have full room service as well as internet facilities, should you require them. It's all listed in the guide book on the table," he smiled at them both.
Buffy ran into the bedroom.
"Have you seen the size of the bed?" she called out.
"If that's all Sir?" asked Malcolm rubbing his nose conspicuously.
"Oh yeah, right you want a tip, show me to my room and then we can talk about it, and it better be just as good as hers," growled Spike.
Malcolm looked at Spike nervously.
"I don't understand, there must be some kind of mistake, this is your room, yours and your wife's. Mr Travers told us that you were friends of his here on your honeymoon and that we were to see that you were taken care of Mr Summers," said Malcolm.
"Mr Summers.? Never mind, here's a fiver, thanks for your help," said Spike as the boy hurriedly exited the room.
Spike looked towards the bedroom from where he could hear various squeals of delight. Buffy came out of the bedroom. He looked at her pensively. He really hoped she was in a 'don't kill the messenger' mood. Buffy frowned at the strange expression on Spike's face,
"What is it, and why are you still here Spike and why isn't that guy showing you to your room? Which I sincerely hope is the hotel basement by the way," Buffy said smugly as she looked around the luxury of her room.
"Because my sweet I am already in my room, that's why," Spike informed her.
Buffy stared at him waiting for the punch line, the continuing silence grew ominous in its length.
"You're not joking are you?" she asked.
"Happy honeymooning Mrs Summers," shrugged Spike.
"When I see that Mr Travers, I am personally gonna squeeze every last breath from his body," she replied.
"Fine! You do whatever you want, only if I can watch of course could do with a spot of violence even if I am only a spectator," said Spike.
He grabbed his case and started towards the bedroom.
"What do you think you are doing?" she asked.
"Unpacking of course and by the way, I sleep on the left side of the bed," he smirked as he walked off.
Buffy folded her arms against her chest.
"If Travers wants war, he's damn well gonna get it," said Buffy quietly to herself.
She stood there for a few moments, pondering on the downward spiral this trip was taking, she could hear Spike whistling happily from the bedroom. Maybe she couldn't do anything about the accommodation for now, but she could make sure Spike didn't get too comfy before this mess was straightened out.
"Spike?" she called out.
No answer.
Buffy frowned in growing frustration as she walked into the bedroom; to her surprise it was empty. The door to the bathroom was slightly ajar, Buffy walked over to it. Vampires didn't need the bathroom so it wasn't like she would catch him with his pants down she reasoned to herself as she pushed the door open. The sound of running water didn't register with her at first as she saw Spike, with more than his pants down. He had his back to her as he stood in the shower, Buffy froze to the spot, as she watched him lather himself under the flow of water. Buffy tried to walk out of the room, but for some reason her legs and her brain no longer seemed connected.
Spike turned to reach for the shampoo, his body all wet and glistening. He looked in surprise as he saw Buffy hovering by the doorway. She looked at him, her eyes widening as they slid lower; he was big. She had felt 'it' that time she had sat on his lap in Giles's apartment, it had almost made her resolve to wait until they were married, crumble into dust. And she was also sure that she would have ripped his clothes off and had him there and then on the crypt floor, just before Willow broke the spell. "Pass the shampoo love?" asked Spike.
"Go to hell," she said as her legs finally started to function and she ran from the room.
Spike looked at himself, his body had started to respond to her presence, much to his annoyance, it seemed to know what it wanted, even if he was afraid to admit it. He smashed his hand against the tiles in self- annoyance, almost deciding to make his shower a cold one.
"Think I already am in hell," he said to the empty room as he carried on showering.
TBC
A/N Sorry I am just a perve, the shower scene is just my re-living an actual dream I had about JM, not Spike! Hides head in embarrassment LOL
Chapter 4
Spike looked out of the plane window at a country he'd never really expected to revisit again, the last time he'd been here, Dru had been with him. Spike sighed; was nothing forever these days? He thought sadly.
"Welcome to England," said the stewardess, seemingly eager to be rid of them both as she hastily opened the aeroplane door
"Sorry love, slight problem, its called daylight," said Spike as he pointed through the window.
"That's why we carry these!" snapped the girl, as she threw a thick blanket at his head.
Buffy smiled sweetly at the girl as if she were her new best friend.
"Mr Travers will be waiting for you in the airport," the stewardess informed them.
"Who the hell is he when he's at home?" asked Spike, looking at Buffy.
"Quentin Travers, he's the head honcho of the Watchers council, not my most favourite of people," Buffy replied.
"Oh, now you've disappointed me, I thought I held that title," grinned Spike.
Buffy couldn't help but giggle at his impish expression. He was quite the charmer when he wanted to be, and away from their usual setting he somehow seemed different. Buffy shook her head; she couldn't allow him to get under her skin like this. Maybe it wouldn't harm to call a truce for a few days, it might make things a little easier. Buffy looked at Spike, about to open her mouth, when he'd put the blanket over his head and dashed off in the direction of the airport's main building.
Buffy turned her attention back to the stewardess,
"Thanks for everything," she smiled at the girl.
"All part of the service, I just wanted to say sorry for earlier," said the stewardess.
"Why?" Asked Buffy, not really sure what the girl was getting at.
"I did a bad thing, I tried to hit on your boyfriend," she replied.
"You tried to hit on my whatty? He's not my boyfriend! Why would you say that?" Buffy asked.
"Oh, it's just that." the girl trailed off.
"What?" demanded Buffy.
"Well, er during the flight when you fell asleep, I saw him cover you with a blanket and you took his hand and kissed it, thought it was kinda sweet at the time," she replied.
Buffy flushed, as she remembered having a hazy dream, and in it, her mother had come and tucked her in, like when she was a little girl. She had kissed Spike's hand? 'Well you've kissed at lot more than that before' her annoying inner voice reminded her.
"Sure he wasn't trying to smother me with the blanket?" asked Buffy, her thoughts in confusion.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Spike was waiting for her when she entered the double doors, a strange expression on her face.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Nothing, oh look I think that's for us," said Buffy as she noticed a man dressed in a chauffeurs uniform, he was holding up a card with her name on it.
She grabbed Spike by the arm and walked over to the man.
"Buffy Summers?" asked the man, as he looked down his nose at her.
"Yep," she answered brightly.
"Follow me," he replied as he turned and walked away.
"But, our luggage?" asked Buffy.
"Already taken care of," he replied.
They had nothing else to do, but trail after the man, as he escorted them to a waiting limousine, Spike let out a low whistle.
"Guess Rupes was right about the buggers being well funded, thought that was just a sweetener to get me here," said Spike.
"Not every one tells lies like you Spike," she replied.
The chauffer opened the limo door. Quentin Travers, senior member of the watchers council alighted from the vehicle.
"Oh God! Do tweed suits come as standard issue among you watcher types?" asked Spike.
Buffy suppressed the giggle she felt rising in her throat; Quentin turned a stern look in Spike's direction.
"Hmmmm, you must be William?" asked Quentin.
"Why do I feel that was more of a statement than a question?" asked Spike.
Quentin ignored him and moved onto Buffy.
"I trust your flight was comfortable Miss Summers, nice to see you again," he drawled, putting out a hand
"Yes on the first count and not so much on the second," said Buffy.
She stared at the outstretched hand and deliberately folded her arms.
"If you'd like to join me in the limo, we can escort you to your accommodation, ladies first," said Quentin.
"Thanks mate, don't mind if I do," said Spike as he brushed past Quentin and seated himself inside the luxury of the car.
"That figures," said Buffy as she joined him in the car, soon to be followed by Quentin.
The Limo managed to weave expertly through the early evening traffic.
"So why do you want us here?" asked Buffy bluntly.
"All in good time Miss Summers, how is Mr Giles?" he asked.
"Oh, you mean since you fired him after years of loyal service to the council?" asked Buffy sarcastically.
"Rupert's become quite the bum, sits around all day watching soaps and getting pissed," Spike informed him smugly.
"Gotta be better than working for a bunch of stuck up English prigs," said Buffy defensively.
"Very concisely put Miss Summers," Quentin returned.
"Oh Buffy has a way with words, 'Spike you are such a pig,' is her favourite," he mimicked.
"I am also good with my hands," mouthed Buffy as she made a staking motion with her hand.
"Is that an offer love, you could at least wait until we get to the hotel," said Spike, as he licked his lips.
Buffy blushed as she saw Quentin's raised eyebrows, she had forgotten how that same hand movement had looked to her friends, when they had silently discussed ways of defeating the gentlemen.
Quentin sighed and checked his watch; it was at least a forty-five minute drive to the hotel.
"Would any of you like a drink?" he offered as he opened up the mini bar in the limo.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
They drove down the Strand, coming to a stop outside the "Savoy" hotel.
"Gotta hand it to you Travers, when you said all expenses paid, you weren't joking," said Spike.
"We have a reputation to uphold," said Quentin looking at his watch yet again.
"Do you have somewhere else you have to be?" asked Buffy arching an eyebrow at him.
"As a matter of fact I do, you'll have to check yourselves in, how about we meet in the American bar say around nine? It's inside the hotel, you can't miss it," said Quentin.
"What about money to pay for it?" asked Buffy, pointing at the hotel.
"Thank you for reminding me Miss Summers, the hotel is taken care of, we have an account here," said Quentin as he drew a large buff coloured envelope from his jacket.
"What's this?" asked Spike.
"Room number, booking confirmation and a little pin money until we can compensate you more substantially," said Quentin.
"I'll look after that," said Spike as he took the envelope from Quentin.
The chauffeur opened the limo door and a porter came forward from the hotel to take in their cases, Quentin lowered the window of the limo.
"Don't forget nine o'clock in the American bar," he reminded them as the car pulled away from the kerb.
Buffy marched through the doors of the hotel, leaving Spike to stare at the departing limo, he wasn't sure if his ears had deceived him when that bugger had said 'Room'
"Nah he wouldn't," said Spike softly under his breath.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
When Spike entered the lobby of the hotel, he saw the object of his 'affections', leaning over the reception desk, her head bent as she signed the guest book. A young man dressed in hotel uniform stood behind it.
"Thank you Madam, ah this must be the other half of your party, here are your keys," said the man as he handed them both smart card keys.
He then signalled to a boy who was standing around.
"Hi I'm Malcolm, let me show you to your rooms," he smiled at them,
*Hoping for a big tip are you boy?* Spike thought to himself.
Spike and Buffy followed Malcolm into the elevator.
"So how are you liking England so far, you're American right?" asked Malcolm.
"I'm American, Spike here is well I'm not sure what he is," said Buffy sarcastically.
"English, born, bred and sired," Spike informed him proudly.
Spike lit up a cigarette, he drew on it deeply. Buffy made a delicate coughing sound as she waved away the smoke.
"I'm sorry Sir, but I am going to have to ask you to put that out, there is a no smoking policy in the public areas of the hotel," Malcolm informed him.
"Oh for God's sake!" said Spike, he stubbed the cigarette out on the wall of the elevator and let the butt fall to the floor.
The elevator doors opened with a ping.
"Your suite is at the end of the corridor, it's one of the best we have, Mr Travers is a respected client of ours," said Malcolm.
The boy drew out a chain from his pocket and swiped the card across the security panel on the door, he turned the handle and opened it.
"Oh wow! It's beautiful," Buffy exclaimed.
"It's our deluxe river view junior suite, I know it's a little dark out there now, but come the morning, you will have spectacular views of the River Thames, now if you need anything, we have full room service as well as internet facilities, should you require them. It's all listed in the guide book on the table," he smiled at them both.
Buffy ran into the bedroom.
"Have you seen the size of the bed?" she called out.
"If that's all Sir?" asked Malcolm rubbing his nose conspicuously.
"Oh yeah, right you want a tip, show me to my room and then we can talk about it, and it better be just as good as hers," growled Spike.
Malcolm looked at Spike nervously.
"I don't understand, there must be some kind of mistake, this is your room, yours and your wife's. Mr Travers told us that you were friends of his here on your honeymoon and that we were to see that you were taken care of Mr Summers," said Malcolm.
"Mr Summers.? Never mind, here's a fiver, thanks for your help," said Spike as the boy hurriedly exited the room.
Spike looked towards the bedroom from where he could hear various squeals of delight. Buffy came out of the bedroom. He looked at her pensively. He really hoped she was in a 'don't kill the messenger' mood. Buffy frowned at the strange expression on Spike's face,
"What is it, and why are you still here Spike and why isn't that guy showing you to your room? Which I sincerely hope is the hotel basement by the way," Buffy said smugly as she looked around the luxury of her room.
"Because my sweet I am already in my room, that's why," Spike informed her.
Buffy stared at him waiting for the punch line, the continuing silence grew ominous in its length.
"You're not joking are you?" she asked.
"Happy honeymooning Mrs Summers," shrugged Spike.
"When I see that Mr Travers, I am personally gonna squeeze every last breath from his body," she replied.
"Fine! You do whatever you want, only if I can watch of course could do with a spot of violence even if I am only a spectator," said Spike.
He grabbed his case and started towards the bedroom.
"What do you think you are doing?" she asked.
"Unpacking of course and by the way, I sleep on the left side of the bed," he smirked as he walked off.
Buffy folded her arms against her chest.
"If Travers wants war, he's damn well gonna get it," said Buffy quietly to herself.
She stood there for a few moments, pondering on the downward spiral this trip was taking, she could hear Spike whistling happily from the bedroom. Maybe she couldn't do anything about the accommodation for now, but she could make sure Spike didn't get too comfy before this mess was straightened out.
"Spike?" she called out.
No answer.
Buffy frowned in growing frustration as she walked into the bedroom; to her surprise it was empty. The door to the bathroom was slightly ajar, Buffy walked over to it. Vampires didn't need the bathroom so it wasn't like she would catch him with his pants down she reasoned to herself as she pushed the door open. The sound of running water didn't register with her at first as she saw Spike, with more than his pants down. He had his back to her as he stood in the shower, Buffy froze to the spot, as she watched him lather himself under the flow of water. Buffy tried to walk out of the room, but for some reason her legs and her brain no longer seemed connected.
Spike turned to reach for the shampoo, his body all wet and glistening. He looked in surprise as he saw Buffy hovering by the doorway. She looked at him, her eyes widening as they slid lower; he was big. She had felt 'it' that time she had sat on his lap in Giles's apartment, it had almost made her resolve to wait until they were married, crumble into dust. And she was also sure that she would have ripped his clothes off and had him there and then on the crypt floor, just before Willow broke the spell. "Pass the shampoo love?" asked Spike.
"Go to hell," she said as her legs finally started to function and she ran from the room.
Spike looked at himself, his body had started to respond to her presence, much to his annoyance, it seemed to know what it wanted, even if he was afraid to admit it. He smashed his hand against the tiles in self- annoyance, almost deciding to make his shower a cold one.
"Think I already am in hell," he said to the empty room as he carried on showering.
TBC
A/N Sorry I am just a perve, the shower scene is just my re-living an actual dream I had about JM, not Spike! Hides head in embarrassment LOL