title: You're No Mr. Smith
chapter title: December 8 pt. 1
author: sentbyfools
chapter summary: Buffy takes a well deserved vacation.
a/n: Okay so it's been 2 years since I last updated this, and I apologize to anyone who's been waiting for an update. I lost all inspiration for this fic, but it's finally back. I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing BtVS fic, so bear with me. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I would name names, but screwed with my email alerts.
story notes: the tense might be iffy in some places as I'm used to writing in the present tense now. If you notice any errors, please point them out. Also, this is part 1 of a 2 part chapter, so the next part should be up within the next couple of days and then this fic will be updated every Friday.
December 8
What bothered her the most was the tension. It wasn't the sexual tension, because that implied that they let the fact that they could kill each other stop them from fucking on every surface possible. They fought, they fucked, they got out it out of their systems ─ mostly ─ and then they did it all over again. No, what bothered Buffy was the emotional tension. She hadn't felt so off her game around a person in years, and it was, if she had to admit it, annoying as shit.
She contemplates this as she rubbed her right leg down, covering it in suntan lotion. It's hot out, expected, because Antigua is hot, but she considered pulling out the umbrella. She wanted to tan, not burn.
"Buffy," Willow said, her voice trembling.
"Yeah?" She didn't glance over to see what was wrong. She was fairly certain she already knew. Buffy continued rubbing down her leg, moving down to her feet. Her nail polish glared in the sunlight, the emerald colour sparkling.
"Hey, Buffy," Angelus whispered into her ear, leaning over her shoulder.
"Wow, you managed to actually say my name. I'm impressed," she said with as much sarcasm as she could muster. She was tired, and she really didn't want to get into anything with Angelus. She knew why he was there, expected him to show up even earlier, but still she'd been hoping he wouldn't show up at all. A girl could dream, right?
"You don't sound like you are. Buff, you can be a little more sincere," he said, straightening behind her.
Angelus came to a stand in front of her, and he looked good, a light tan on his normally pale skin and his black swimming shorts riding low on his waist. She felt hot, and it wasn't from the sun.
"And we've regressed," she said, shaking her head at him. She really just wanted him to leave before she did something she'd regret. Beach sex isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sand in uncomfortable places, and she wasn't keen on experiencing that again. She started to move on to rub suntan on her other leg, but Angelus stopped her, crouching in front of her and grabbing the suntan lotion out of her hand.
"Need a hand?" he asked, and she leant back in her seat. She didn't bother with a response because he wasn't going to stop no matter what she said, and she wasn't in the mood for a pointless fight. Not when it was likely she'd need her strength later when he decided to get back at her for her stunt two months ago.
"Man, I love your legs," he said. He rubbed lotion into his hands and then stroked her legs, starting from her feet and moving upwards.
His touch was warm and soft, belying the danger in them, and if he wanted to break her leg right then, she wouldn't have been able to stop him. She'd left herself open, but she'd had worse than a broken leg before. Besides even wearing the skimpy bikini she had on, she would never leave herself so unprotected.
Buffy fingered the knife embedded in the deck chair idly as she relaxes into the feeling of Angelus' hands moving up her leg. It felt good, and she wasn't going to resist that.
"Didn't you say I was going to be "punished" the next time you saw me? Well, this is punishment enough isn't it?" she said, eyes closed and head back.
"You don't seem like you're being punished," he murmured, his voice husky. She smiled. At least she wasn't the only one affected by their closeness. Buffy frowned at the thought; she didn't want to feel this way around him. She'd prefer it if all she wanted was to rip his throat out, and she thought back to the short amount of time that it was all she wanted to do. It felt like a lifetime ago. At least he was a good lay.
"I'm good at pretending. You should already know that," she said, although she couldn't help the moan she made when his hands moved farther up her thigh.
"I should," he agreed, and she opened her eyes when his hands slipped under her bikini bottoms. She grabbed the knife in the chair, and placed it over his hand, not quite cutting but enough to make the threat clear.
"Remove it or lose it."
"So cruel, Buffy," he said.
She studied him critically for a moment, ignoring the way he studied her back.
"Why are you here?" she asked him after a moment.
"Because ─" he grinned at her widely, "Because I want to be. Besides you're here. What could be a better reason than that?"
"Fuck off," she said without any heat. She was more amused than annoyed.
"As you wish," he said, bowing dramatically, and she had to laugh at that. He disappeared from where he came from, and Buffy leaned back in her chair, getting comfortable.
It was quiet for about ten minutes until Willow said, "What the fuck was that?"
Buffy sat up, craning her neck to look at Willow. "Language, Will? And what do you mean?"
"You didn't even ─ oh no Buffy. You like him. You actually like him."
Buffy shook her head because she hadn't liked anyone since she was fifteen, and that ended when she burned him alive in the school gym with the cheerleader he'd been cheating on her with. She'd been attracted to for long periods of time, but sex is sex, hormones, biological imperative and all that. It was the same thing with Angelus except raised to a higher extent.
"I don't like him. I just like fucking him," Buffy clarified, and it was the end of the conversation except Faith showed up then, dripping wet from surfing.
"Like fucking who, B?" she asked.
"Angelus," Willow said, "And she likes him."
"Really?" Faith said, raising a brow. "Good on you, B. He's a keeper."
"He's not a keeper. Or someone who would let someone keep them," Buffy said, her tone sharp.
Faith cut her off before she could continue though, said, "Oh you know this, B? And you say that you just like fucking him."
"This conversation is over," Buffy said, and stood up, stretching. She was done with discussing Angelus, and not even her desire for a tan made her want to stay. She didn't want to have to hurt either one of them, not on their vacation, and Buffy was quickly reaching into the territory of physical violence.
"Whatever you say, B."
"It is over," she said, staring at Faith and Willow coolly.
"Fine, Buffy," Faith said, staring back at her. Luckily for them, they knew when it's time to quit. They wouldn't bring it up again, at least not around Buffy.
They could gossip about it all they want to each other, Buffy didn't care just so long as she didn't have to hear it.
"Are we really doing this now?" she asked, when she entered her room and saw Angelus sitting on the chair by the bathroom. She'd been hoping she'd at least be able to get in a shower first, put some real clothes on before he arrived. Buffy calculated how long it would take for her to reopen the door. Too long, and she was probably fucked.
In more ways than one likely. The thought thrilled her in a way she didn't want to analyze, so she pushed it away, staring at Angelus.
She watched as his hands idly stroked a pair of handcuffs strewn across his lap. Handcuffs, good, she could get out of those easily enough.
"Would you prefer this happen later?" he said with humour in his voice.
Buffy had a knife tucked into her beach bag and a gun in the bedside table. She'd go for the knife first, use the gun as a last resort. She wasn't a big fan of them anyway, never had been.
"I'm covered in sand and in a bikini."
"I noticed," Angelus replied, giving her a long onceover. "It looks good on you, but why you'd wear something like that when you're not even expecting me is a wonder."
His tone was casual, but she could hear the threat underneath it. Of course, he'd be fucking possessive.
"I'm always expecting you," she said before she realized how the words sound, like she'd wear things for him.
He smirked at her, noticing the implication of her words as well, and said, "Well, if you're always expecting me..."
He trailed off coming to a stand, and Buffy reached for the knife in her bag. He reached her first though, and she must've really been off her game because he had her arm behind her back before she could even react. He pulled it up until she whimpered from the pain. She could feel the bikini stretching beyond it's give. Fuck him and his fucking timing.
"Giving in so soon, Buff? That's not like you," he said.
"I know," she replied, elbowing him in the stomach with her free arm, and using the hip lodged between his thighs to force him back to the wall. She couldn't quite head butt him, he's too tall for that, but when he hit the wall, he released her arm. She turned around, grabbed him by the shoulders, and kneed him hard in the groin.
It's wasn't enough to keep him down for long, but long enough for her to make it to the outside deck. The door was locked when she got to it, and Buffy wasn't going to be jumping through glass anytime soon, so she dove for the bedside table instead, trying to get a hold of her gun. Again, Angelus reached her first though, and he pulled her up by her hair, causing her to curse from the pain.
"Fuck you," she said, when he grabbed one hand and cuffed it. If he'd only release that one she could smack him with the cuffs. He slid a leg around hers, causing her to fall forward and it allowed him to grab the other arm, and then he had both her hands cuffed behind her back.
He grabbed her by the hair again, pulled her to the bed and she went with him because she's kind of attached to her hair.
"That was too easy, Buff. It's as if you wanted me to win," he said, frowning at her as he pushed her on the bed.
"This is my vacation, I'm in a fucking bikini, and you're not supposed to be here, so I'm a little off my game, yeah?"
He leaned over her, stretching an arm out behind her head, and said, "I thought you always expected me, but whatever helps you sleep at night, lover."
He stood up before she could head butt him, and with the handcuffs around her wrists she couldn't sit up fast enough before he returned from the other side of the room. It did give her enough time to notice the cuffs around the bedposts of her bed, and she pushed to the center, hoping it would put enough distance between her and them that she'd have enough time to wriggle out of the handcuffs.
"I don't know why you're trying. Well, I do know why ─ You can't just give up, it's not like you. But Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, I've already won. It'll be easier on you if you, well, it's not going to be easy on you at all."
She rolled her eyes at him as he crawled on to the bed. He picked up one of the ankle cuffs, and Buffy kicked out at him, missing, and falling back down on the bed. Her missed kick only served to bring her leg into cuffing distance.
"You're just making this too simple for me, Buff," he murmured, locking her leg into the first cuff. She rolled, still trying to wriggle her hands free.
The cuts from the attack by Gwen Raiden had finally healed a week ago, and she hissed at him for causing her to reopen them.
"Fuck you."
"Don't do that," he said idly, grabbing her other leg and forcing it down. He attached the other cuff to her ankle, leaving her lying spread-eagle on the bed, and continued, "We wouldn't you to scar."
"You talk too much," she said as he moved between her spread legs. She pushed herself up, wrapping her cuffed hands around his neck, cutting into him with the sharp edges.
"Fuck," he said. He punched her in the stomach and slipped out of her grasp.
"Nice try, lover," he said, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.
Angelus moved back over to her, and grabbed her by the handcuffs before Buffy could try anything else. She couldn't see what he was doing behind her, but she could guess. When she heard the click, she knew her suspicion was correct.
She was trapped. For how long it'd be she couldn't tell, but Buffy could be patient.
"So are you going to get this over with? I'm already bored of the whole bondage thing. I see now why you were so eager to get out of those cuffs. That and the whole orgasm denial. Did you have fun dealing with that later?"
She paused, smiling at him as he appeared again in her view, and said sweetly, "Did you think of me?"
He grinned back at her, and said, "Not that I'm not enjoying your company, Buff, but I have something I need to take care of. You sit tight there, I'll be back in a jiff."
"Don't stay gone too long. Don't keep me waiting," she said, pouting as she began to tug at the chains, testing their strength.
"Titanium," he said, noticing her movements, "This shouldn't take that long. Don't go hurting yourself while I'm gone."
When he turned and left the room, Buffy began working on wriggling her hands out of the chains. It wasn't that she truly minded being in the chains, it was just the principal of the matter. Anyone could've walked in and taken her out, though she was certain Angelus wouldn't leave her without protection. He was possessive like that, and Buffy had to admit that she liked it. Faith had always said was secretly into the kinkier things, and Buffy was starting to realize that Faith might've been on to something.
In the position she was in, she couldn't reach the pin she had tucked into her bikini top so her only option was to once again use her blood as lubricant to get out of the cuffs.
It wasn't really much of an option.
"Fuck," she said because she was well and truly fucked.
Angelus watched the man for five minutes before he revealed himself. Though he'd told Buffy that he'd been down there for her, the real reason that he was here was for the man twitching in the corner booth of dingy little diner.
"What do you have for me, Merl?"
"Angelus ─" Merl recoiled as Angelus took the seat across from him in the booth.
"Stop cringing before I give you a reason to actually do so," Angelus said. The threat was real, but his heart's wasn't really in it. He was more interested in the Slayer tied to her bed than he was in the possibility of having to remove Merl's fingernails one by one.
"It's about the girl. Her last job was for something called the Initiative," Merl said, glancing around the room as if Angelus wasn't the most dangerous person in it.
Must be something big to shake Merl up like this, Angelus thought, staring around the room. There's only a few workers from the hotel in the diner, and Angelus' already vetted them so there was no reason to worry about the conversation being overheard.
He was getting the feeling though of something, something he couldn't quite place.
"So, what's this initiative?" he said, staring over Merl's shoulder towards the door.
"It's ─" and that's all Merl got out before he chokes on his soup. His face turned blotchy, a red and then a deep green before he collapsed into the bowl.
Angelus checked his pulse, fingers brushing over a small pin lodged in Merl's throat. It figures that someone that gave a girl the power to electrocute someone with her fingers wouldn't be squeamish about killing off a rat like Merl.
It's a pity though, Angelus thought, removing the pin from Merl's neck and placing it in his pocket, I rather liked him.
Angelus considered it a wonder that they didn't try to take him out as well, and he filed it away as something to look into. When someone doesn't kill you when they should, it means they want something from you, and Angelus was going to find out what exactly the "Initiative" wanted from him.
He didn't wait for the staff to notice Merl's death, just slipped out the door as quietly as he came in. He looked to the East where the pin shot came from, but he doesn't see anything or anyone and he has more important things to deal with than running after a rival assassin.
His Slayer is waiting.