Ultimatum
Jessica Charlotte
A/N: thanks for the reviews. I'm posting chapters two and three because they were generally quite a bit shorter than the first, so more Spuffyness for all!
Chapter Two:
Buffy walked into the alleyway, her heeled boots clicking loudly on the cement with each step she took. Her hand rested on her hip, feeling the stake tucked into the waistband of her pants. She glanced at her watch. There were two minutes left until he was supposed to show. Spike. He had to have been the sexiest vampire she had ever seen in her life. Out of all the vampires she had met, he was the only one who she has had a conversation with. And god was he attractive! The muscle tone clearly visible beneath his tight t-shirt. The deep, penetrating eyes and their color. I think I might change my favorite color from green to blue because of those eyes, she mused. And his accent. I thought all British people were stuffy and bookish like Giles. I never thought that a British accent could sound that sensual. "Ugh!" she groaned in annoyance. Bad, bad Buffy. He is the enemy. I'm supposed to want to slay him, not lay him. Annoying sexy British vampire. She whimpered pathetically. How can anything that attractive not be evil?
So involved in her thoughts, she didn't feel or hear the vampire sneak up on her, until its arm was wrapped around her neck from behind in a chokehold. She made a strangled "eep" of surprise, flailing helplessly, struggling to get out of the vampire's grasp. Her face was turning a nice shade of blue when the weight was released from her neck. She fell against the alley wall, gasping in air, so happy to breathe that she didn't acknowledge her savior.
When her breathing had almost returned to normal, she chanced a glance up and saw a smirking Spike leaning against the wall a few feet away from her. She could have sworn that when she first met his stare, concern glimmered in his eyes. But that might have just been the lack of air talking. She looked at her watch before saying, "You're early."
His smirk widened into a grin, "What can I say? Couldn't wait." There was an awkward silence before he continued, "Bloody good thing too. Any longer you would have been dead right about now."
Insulted, she growled, "I was doing just fine."
His eyebrows shot up and he snorted disbelievingly. "Right. You weren't flailing about like a bloody fish out of water or anything like that."
"Of course not! If you walked up on time, you would have seen me dusting that vamp's dust off of my clothes."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, love."
"Okay then!"
"Good!"
"Good!"
"Fine!"
They looked away from each other for a few moments before she glanced over at him from the corner of her eye. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his cheeks were sucked in, his lips puckered into a pout. The corners of her mouth twitched, and she tried to control herself. She couldn't, and she started laughing.
"What is it now?" he demanded in faux annoyance.
"You!" guffaw, "You're," guffaw," Pouting!" she was set off into a laughing fit so extreme that tears streamed out of her eyes.
"I am bloody well not pouting! Take it back!" he whined.
She shook her head, holding her sides as the laughing continued. "Never!"
He stormed up to her until he was standing toe to toe with her. He looked her straight in the eye and said in a menacing tone. "I'll have you know that vampires do not pout."
The word vampire cut her laughter short, and she straightened up solemnly. "If you weren't pouting, then what exactly were you doing? Sulking?"
An offended/shocked look plastered itself to his face. "Sulking!" he sputtered in outrage. I am not a bleeding sulker. I'm not bloody Peaches you know!"
"Peaches sulk? I didn't know that."
"Not the fruit, love. A person."
"What mother hated their child enough to name their child Peaches?" her nose crinkled in distaste.
"It's a bloody nickname. He prefers the term Angelus though."
"Angelus? Am I supposed to know who the hell you are talking about?"
"You mean, he hasn't introduced himself yet? Not too surprising, if you aske me. He's more the stalking type. He should be in your little slayer handbook."
"There's a handbook?" she screeched, before adopting a nonchalant look. "Oh, that handbook. I guess this Angelus wasn't special enough to make the cut."
Spike reflected on his grand-sire for a moment. "No, he is more than special enough. But he knows better than to mess in the Master's business."
"The Master?" Buffy's attention was piqued.
"Oh bloody hell!" Spike growled, smacking himself in the head. He turned around and stalked out of the alleyway, grumbling to himself all the way.
Jessica Charlotte
A/N: thanks for the reviews. I'm posting chapters two and three because they were generally quite a bit shorter than the first, so more Spuffyness for all!
Chapter Two:
Buffy walked into the alleyway, her heeled boots clicking loudly on the cement with each step she took. Her hand rested on her hip, feeling the stake tucked into the waistband of her pants. She glanced at her watch. There were two minutes left until he was supposed to show. Spike. He had to have been the sexiest vampire she had ever seen in her life. Out of all the vampires she had met, he was the only one who she has had a conversation with. And god was he attractive! The muscle tone clearly visible beneath his tight t-shirt. The deep, penetrating eyes and their color. I think I might change my favorite color from green to blue because of those eyes, she mused. And his accent. I thought all British people were stuffy and bookish like Giles. I never thought that a British accent could sound that sensual. "Ugh!" she groaned in annoyance. Bad, bad Buffy. He is the enemy. I'm supposed to want to slay him, not lay him. Annoying sexy British vampire. She whimpered pathetically. How can anything that attractive not be evil?
So involved in her thoughts, she didn't feel or hear the vampire sneak up on her, until its arm was wrapped around her neck from behind in a chokehold. She made a strangled "eep" of surprise, flailing helplessly, struggling to get out of the vampire's grasp. Her face was turning a nice shade of blue when the weight was released from her neck. She fell against the alley wall, gasping in air, so happy to breathe that she didn't acknowledge her savior.
When her breathing had almost returned to normal, she chanced a glance up and saw a smirking Spike leaning against the wall a few feet away from her. She could have sworn that when she first met his stare, concern glimmered in his eyes. But that might have just been the lack of air talking. She looked at her watch before saying, "You're early."
His smirk widened into a grin, "What can I say? Couldn't wait." There was an awkward silence before he continued, "Bloody good thing too. Any longer you would have been dead right about now."
Insulted, she growled, "I was doing just fine."
His eyebrows shot up and he snorted disbelievingly. "Right. You weren't flailing about like a bloody fish out of water or anything like that."
"Of course not! If you walked up on time, you would have seen me dusting that vamp's dust off of my clothes."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, love."
"Okay then!"
"Good!"
"Good!"
"Fine!"
They looked away from each other for a few moments before she glanced over at him from the corner of her eye. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his cheeks were sucked in, his lips puckered into a pout. The corners of her mouth twitched, and she tried to control herself. She couldn't, and she started laughing.
"What is it now?" he demanded in faux annoyance.
"You!" guffaw, "You're," guffaw," Pouting!" she was set off into a laughing fit so extreme that tears streamed out of her eyes.
"I am bloody well not pouting! Take it back!" he whined.
She shook her head, holding her sides as the laughing continued. "Never!"
He stormed up to her until he was standing toe to toe with her. He looked her straight in the eye and said in a menacing tone. "I'll have you know that vampires do not pout."
The word vampire cut her laughter short, and she straightened up solemnly. "If you weren't pouting, then what exactly were you doing? Sulking?"
An offended/shocked look plastered itself to his face. "Sulking!" he sputtered in outrage. I am not a bleeding sulker. I'm not bloody Peaches you know!"
"Peaches sulk? I didn't know that."
"Not the fruit, love. A person."
"What mother hated their child enough to name their child Peaches?" her nose crinkled in distaste.
"It's a bloody nickname. He prefers the term Angelus though."
"Angelus? Am I supposed to know who the hell you are talking about?"
"You mean, he hasn't introduced himself yet? Not too surprising, if you aske me. He's more the stalking type. He should be in your little slayer handbook."
"There's a handbook?" she screeched, before adopting a nonchalant look. "Oh, that handbook. I guess this Angelus wasn't special enough to make the cut."
Spike reflected on his grand-sire for a moment. "No, he is more than special enough. But he knows better than to mess in the Master's business."
"The Master?" Buffy's attention was piqued.
"Oh bloody hell!" Spike growled, smacking himself in the head. He turned around and stalked out of the alleyway, grumbling to himself all the way.