Chapter Twenty-Seven
Buffy opened her eyes lazily, blinking in the morning light. She smiled and rolled over, reaching for the warm body that should have been occupying the rest of the large bed. She frowned and forced herself properly awake as she realised that she was alone.
She looked up, scanned the room for some sign of her erstwhile bedmate, but he wasn't there.
Where the hell has the guy got to? she wondered to herself as she swung round to sit on the edge of the bed, looking for something to wear, eyes finally alighting on a shirt that had been casually thrown over the back of a chair. She slipped it on and padded out of the room in search of Spike.
Following the sounds emanating from the kitchen she soon found the object of her little hunt. He stood with his back towards her, clad in only a pair of worn black jeans. She stood silently in the doorway, eyeing appreciatively the way the muscles in his back moved as he busied himself at whatever it was that he was doing. She smiled to herself as her gaze drifted lower and she raised an eyebrow as she took in how well the jeans framed his rather splendid arse.
She was lost in contemplation when the object of her admiration seemed to sense her presence and turned to face her. Recognising the expression on her face, he smiled.
"Like what you see, pet?" he asked with a grin, running on of his hands over his chest and down across his toned abs.
"Oh, that's a very definite yes," Buffy breathed, gaze following the movement of his hand. She walked slowly across the room, eyes travelling upwards until they locked on his. "You left me," she stated matter-of- factly as she came to a halt directly in front of him.
"You were fast asleep. Guess I tired you out last night, pet," he smirked.
"Guess you did," she smiled, moistening her lips at the thought of the previous night's 'activities'.
His eyes left her face and travelled down her body, taking in the shirt that hung off her slight frame.
"Hey, is that one of my shirts you're wearing?" he asked, surprised. Buffy took a step back and held her arms out to the sides before turning round slowly.
"Yep - you like?"
"As much as I hate to admit it luv, it looks better on you than it does on me."
"Why, of course it does," she purred with a teasing smile, eyes sparking with humour. Spike laughed and pulled her towards him, encircling her petite frame with his arms.
"But it just won't do," he sighed regretfully. Buffy looked up at him.
"Oh, and why's that?" she asked curiously.
"Because, pet, I have plans for today."
"That have anything to do with not letting me out of your bed?" she asked, playfully.
"As tempting a suggestion as that might be, luv, it wasn't what I had in mind."
"Oh." Buffy's face dropped a little and she frowned up at him for a second before a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "You sure about that?" she asked, running one hand over his arse and squeezing it through the tightly fitting denim before pulling him closer. Spike groaned in response and for a second he looked tempted, but then he visibly collected himself and pulled away from her, turning back to the counter.
"Like I said, pet, I have plans for today." He turned back to face her and handed her a cup of tea before taking a seat at the kitchen table. He pulled the morning newspaper towards him and took a sip of his coffee as he started to read the headlines.
Buffy looked thoughtfully into the steaming mug before leaning back against the worktop, biting her bottom lip somewhat nervously.
When she didn't speak, Spike looked up from the paper. "What? You're standing there looking all forlorn. What've I said now to upset you? Is this because I won't let you drag me straight back to bed? Is that it?" He couldn't help the slight irritation which slipped into his tone, but he stopped short of a full blown rant as he saw the look of anguish which appeared on her face as she shook her head before hiding her eyes by dropping them back down to the mug she was cradling in her hands. Spike sighed and pushed the newspaper away. "What is it then?" he asked kindly.
"You said you had plans," Buffy explained quietly into her mug, as if this accounted for everything. Spike looked confused.
"You have a problem with that?" he asked bewilderedly.
"Why did you ask me over if you had plans?" Buffy asked, raising her head to look him in the face. Spike's eyes widened and he gaped slightly as he realised what she meant, then he suddenly laughed.
"Luv, I didn't mean it like that! I meant I had plans for us. I thought that we could go out for the day, that I could show you around! You didn't really think that I was going to abandon you here all day, did you? You just have to stop jumping to conclusions about me, pet!" She frowned at him for a minute, irritated, and then broke into a sheepish grin.
"Yeah, I know," she agreed. "So, day out?" she suddenly asked brightly.
"Yep," he answered, pulling the paper back towards him and flipping over to page three.
"Where we going?"
"You'll see," was the only response she got as he studied the page in front of him.
"Ooh. Mysterious..."
"But you'll need some sensible footwear," he expanded. "Oh, and I'm taking you out to dinner tonight, so I hope you have something nice with you."
"Wasn't sure what we'd be doing this weekend," she said simply as she finished off her mug off tea and set the now empty cup down on the worktop behind her. "So I packed a bit of everything - I think I've got it covered." Spike looked up from his newspaper and raised an eyebrow.
"Good." He stood up and stalked over to her, predatory gleam in his eye. "Now, about you stealing my shirt," he began, pulling her body flush against his. She gasped and her breath quickened. Spike smiled as he watched her melt against him. "That was naughty of you," he admonished roguishly.
"I know, it was wrong," she said, feigning contrition.
"And I thought that you were a good girl..."
"Oh! I was!" Buffy argued mischievously. "But then I met you. You're evil - you corrupted me!"
"Oh, so this is all my fault, is it?" he laughed. Buffy nodded vehemently.
"Yep - definitely your fault. I mean, if I'd never met you I wouldn't have been all naked in your bed. And then you left that shirt out..." she was cut off by a growl from the man still holding her.
"Say that again," he demanded, huskily.
"What? That you're a messy slob who leaves his clothes lying around his room?" she asked, biting back a laugh.
"No," he rumbled. "The bit about you being naked in my bed - I liked that bit."
"Oh, you did, did you?" she teased.
"Yes, I did. In fact, I think I want to see that one for myself." He pulled her towards the bedroom and she followed willingly, smile lighting up her face.
"But you've already seen..."
"Not in the daylight I haven't," he cut her off.
"What about our daytrip?" she asked laughingly as he pulled them both down onto the bed and started to unbutton the shirt.
"Later," was the only response she got before he divested her of the cotton garment and lowered his mouth to her nipple.
"'K," she managed to get out before his ministrations put coherent speech beyond her grasp.
Buffy opened her eyes lazily, blinking in the morning light. She smiled and rolled over, reaching for the warm body that should have been occupying the rest of the large bed. She frowned and forced herself properly awake as she realised that she was alone.
She looked up, scanned the room for some sign of her erstwhile bedmate, but he wasn't there.
Where the hell has the guy got to? she wondered to herself as she swung round to sit on the edge of the bed, looking for something to wear, eyes finally alighting on a shirt that had been casually thrown over the back of a chair. She slipped it on and padded out of the room in search of Spike.
Following the sounds emanating from the kitchen she soon found the object of her little hunt. He stood with his back towards her, clad in only a pair of worn black jeans. She stood silently in the doorway, eyeing appreciatively the way the muscles in his back moved as he busied himself at whatever it was that he was doing. She smiled to herself as her gaze drifted lower and she raised an eyebrow as she took in how well the jeans framed his rather splendid arse.
She was lost in contemplation when the object of her admiration seemed to sense her presence and turned to face her. Recognising the expression on her face, he smiled.
"Like what you see, pet?" he asked with a grin, running on of his hands over his chest and down across his toned abs.
"Oh, that's a very definite yes," Buffy breathed, gaze following the movement of his hand. She walked slowly across the room, eyes travelling upwards until they locked on his. "You left me," she stated matter-of- factly as she came to a halt directly in front of him.
"You were fast asleep. Guess I tired you out last night, pet," he smirked.
"Guess you did," she smiled, moistening her lips at the thought of the previous night's 'activities'.
His eyes left her face and travelled down her body, taking in the shirt that hung off her slight frame.
"Hey, is that one of my shirts you're wearing?" he asked, surprised. Buffy took a step back and held her arms out to the sides before turning round slowly.
"Yep - you like?"
"As much as I hate to admit it luv, it looks better on you than it does on me."
"Why, of course it does," she purred with a teasing smile, eyes sparking with humour. Spike laughed and pulled her towards him, encircling her petite frame with his arms.
"But it just won't do," he sighed regretfully. Buffy looked up at him.
"Oh, and why's that?" she asked curiously.
"Because, pet, I have plans for today."
"That have anything to do with not letting me out of your bed?" she asked, playfully.
"As tempting a suggestion as that might be, luv, it wasn't what I had in mind."
"Oh." Buffy's face dropped a little and she frowned up at him for a second before a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "You sure about that?" she asked, running one hand over his arse and squeezing it through the tightly fitting denim before pulling him closer. Spike groaned in response and for a second he looked tempted, but then he visibly collected himself and pulled away from her, turning back to the counter.
"Like I said, pet, I have plans for today." He turned back to face her and handed her a cup of tea before taking a seat at the kitchen table. He pulled the morning newspaper towards him and took a sip of his coffee as he started to read the headlines.
Buffy looked thoughtfully into the steaming mug before leaning back against the worktop, biting her bottom lip somewhat nervously.
When she didn't speak, Spike looked up from the paper. "What? You're standing there looking all forlorn. What've I said now to upset you? Is this because I won't let you drag me straight back to bed? Is that it?" He couldn't help the slight irritation which slipped into his tone, but he stopped short of a full blown rant as he saw the look of anguish which appeared on her face as she shook her head before hiding her eyes by dropping them back down to the mug she was cradling in her hands. Spike sighed and pushed the newspaper away. "What is it then?" he asked kindly.
"You said you had plans," Buffy explained quietly into her mug, as if this accounted for everything. Spike looked confused.
"You have a problem with that?" he asked bewilderedly.
"Why did you ask me over if you had plans?" Buffy asked, raising her head to look him in the face. Spike's eyes widened and he gaped slightly as he realised what she meant, then he suddenly laughed.
"Luv, I didn't mean it like that! I meant I had plans for us. I thought that we could go out for the day, that I could show you around! You didn't really think that I was going to abandon you here all day, did you? You just have to stop jumping to conclusions about me, pet!" She frowned at him for a minute, irritated, and then broke into a sheepish grin.
"Yeah, I know," she agreed. "So, day out?" she suddenly asked brightly.
"Yep," he answered, pulling the paper back towards him and flipping over to page three.
"Where we going?"
"You'll see," was the only response she got as he studied the page in front of him.
"Ooh. Mysterious..."
"But you'll need some sensible footwear," he expanded. "Oh, and I'm taking you out to dinner tonight, so I hope you have something nice with you."
"Wasn't sure what we'd be doing this weekend," she said simply as she finished off her mug off tea and set the now empty cup down on the worktop behind her. "So I packed a bit of everything - I think I've got it covered." Spike looked up from his newspaper and raised an eyebrow.
"Good." He stood up and stalked over to her, predatory gleam in his eye. "Now, about you stealing my shirt," he began, pulling her body flush against his. She gasped and her breath quickened. Spike smiled as he watched her melt against him. "That was naughty of you," he admonished roguishly.
"I know, it was wrong," she said, feigning contrition.
"And I thought that you were a good girl..."
"Oh! I was!" Buffy argued mischievously. "But then I met you. You're evil - you corrupted me!"
"Oh, so this is all my fault, is it?" he laughed. Buffy nodded vehemently.
"Yep - definitely your fault. I mean, if I'd never met you I wouldn't have been all naked in your bed. And then you left that shirt out..." she was cut off by a growl from the man still holding her.
"Say that again," he demanded, huskily.
"What? That you're a messy slob who leaves his clothes lying around his room?" she asked, biting back a laugh.
"No," he rumbled. "The bit about you being naked in my bed - I liked that bit."
"Oh, you did, did you?" she teased.
"Yes, I did. In fact, I think I want to see that one for myself." He pulled her towards the bedroom and she followed willingly, smile lighting up her face.
"But you've already seen..."
"Not in the daylight I haven't," he cut her off.
"What about our daytrip?" she asked laughingly as he pulled them both down onto the bed and started to unbutton the shirt.
"Later," was the only response she got before he divested her of the cotton garment and lowered his mouth to her nipple.
"'K," she managed to get out before his ministrations put coherent speech beyond her grasp.