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Chapter 17


“Ta-Da.” Buffy flung back her bathroom door and ushered Spike inside. “So, what do you think?”

“Whoa,” Spike stepped inside and looked around. “Talk about bathrooms of the stars.”

“You like?”

“Yeah, I like.” He sidled up behind her and placed a hand on each side of her waist, his thumbs making little circular motions, moving higher. Taking her tee shirt with them. “How about we take that Jacuzzi for a test drive.”

Buffy leaned back against him for a moment, savouring the feel of his hands on her bare skin. Remembering what those hands were capable of, how they made her want to melt under their heat. “Yeah,” she gasped as they reached the sides of her breasts. “But we’re gonna do this properly.”

“We are love.” He was tugging the tee shirt in earnest now, impatience making him clumsy. “Lift your arms, sweetheart, you’re wearing too many clothes.” His voice had already dropped a few notches, taking on a passion - roughened edge that made her shiver with anticipation.

Still, she managed to push him away. “Not yet Spike. I gotta plan.”

“You do? Come back here, you minx.” He made another grab at her, but she skipped out of reach.

“No you don’t, I’m in charge tonight.”

That stopped him in his tracks. He stepped towards her and sucked on his bottom lip for a moment as he thought about it, his finger tracing a lazy pattern over the front of her tee shirt. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She tossed her hair back, hoping it made her look sultry, yet available. “Always wanted to do the Jacuzzi thing. You know, like in the movies.”

Spike was still watching his fingers moving over her breasts. “Keep talking Buffy, you’ve got my attention.”

“Well, I, uhh, oh god Spike.” She leaned right into him, so that her breast filled his hand. At this rate they weren’t going to get very far with her plan at all. It wasn’t so much of a plan really. She hadn’t meant for this to happen tonight, but she’d seen enough films, read enough books to know how much fun there was to be had with a Jacuzzi. She’d fantasised about it often enough and now she wanted the whole show. Champagne, bubbles, soft music and of course a sexy hunk. She removed his hand, earning herself one of his disappointed looks. She loved it when he did that. All pouty bottom lip and puppy dog eyes. Still, this needed a certain amount of setting up. There was a lot to be said for spontaneous sex. That was a lesson she was learning fast. But planning and organising were what she was good at. And this was going to be good.

“Now, Spike, you’ll have to go to the supermarket. I don’t think I have any champagne, and we’ll need to get sexy food...what?”

Spike’s face was a picture. “You want me to go shopping?”

“Well, yeah. I’ll be busy here, setting up. Got to do this right.”

“Buffy, I can hardly walk here.” He took her hand and showed her just what he was talking about. “This is cruel and unusual punishment, you know that.”

Buffy thought about it for a few seconds, enjoying the feel of him. Loving the way his facial expressions changed, and feeling just a teensy bit guilty. He didn’t look very comfortable at all. But she wasn’t relenting. This was fantasy-come-true-time, and the first time she’d had the requisite hunk to do it with. She traced his bottom lip with her finger.

“Oh, please Spike? It’ll be worth it.”

“Okay, but on one condition.”

“What’s that, eek.” She gave a shriek as Spike scooped her off her feet, and marched back into the bedroom with her. He plopped her down onto the bed and started stripping off his tee shirt.

One look at his naked chest and she’d got the idea. He looked at her apologetically. “Sorry love, gotta get this out of the way first.” He stopped with the tee shirt half way off. “Yeah?”

At that moment Buffy felt like the most powerful woman on earth. She knew that if she said no now he would bite his own leg off rather than continue. But she wasn’t going to say no. This could be part of the fantasy too. She nodded ever so slightly and the tee shirt came all the way off. Within five minutes both sets of clothes were strewn about the bed and floor and Buffy had at last learned the true meaning of the expression ‘quickie.’

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Spike lay, half sprawled on her getting his breath back.

“Now, get some good champagne, not the rubbish - I’m paying, don’t argue. I want to do this. And some sexy food. What do you think? Asparagus?”

He lowered his head to her chest. “Asparagus? You’re something else, you know that?”

He felt Buffy’s hand in his hair. “So you keep telling me.”

His whole body relaxed under her ministrations. If she hadn’t said yes, he would have had to go off to the bathroom by himself, he was that desperate. Not his preferred option. But she’d got him so hot, so excited, that she had no idea. At least now he could pace himself, and he was looking forward to her little fantasy evening. “How do you do that?”

“What this? She threaded her hand into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah, that, that’s nice. And the other thing.”

“What other thing?”

“The multi-tasking. I’m lying here with bloody cherubs flying around my head. There’s a hundred piece orchestra, violins, the lot, and you’re making a shopping list.” He lifted his head to look at her, his breathing calming down at last. She looked a little concerned.

“Oh, Spike, I wasn’t, you know while we were...”

“Calm down love, joking here. You’ve got to get with the English sense of humour. I love it Buff. I love everything about you.”

He could see she was holding her breath, wondering if she’d heard him right. He hadn’t quite said he loved her, but it wouldn’t be long, he realised. “Hey, come with me. I’m bound to buy the wrong brand of asparagus or something.”

“All right. How about we take my car? You can drive.”

“Can I?” Spike was off her like a shot, picking up his jeans and pulling them on. “Sex, fast cars, Jacuzzis, you sure know the way to a man’s heart.” He stopped and looked at her, lying on her back, her arms flung wide, smiling lazily. “What are you waiting for woman? Get dressed.” “Changed my mind,” she pouted. “ Got no energy left.”

“Hey, part of the fantasy, remember?” He picked up her tee shirt and contemplated it before dropping it onto her face. “You got anything better than this to wear?”

She moved it down so that just her eyes were showing. “Might have.”

He folded his arms and waited. “Well?”

“Reckon I’ll surprise you.” Buffy rolled onto her stomach and leaned her chin on her hands. “Gonna watch you getting dressed, then you can get the car out and wait for me.”

Spike picked up his tee shirt and pulled it over his head, smoothing it down slowly over his body. Letting her enjoy the show. He half contemplated putting a condom into the pocket of his jeans. When she looked at him like that, he just wanted to throw her down onto the bed and have his wicked way with her, over and over. God knew if they were going to make it to the supermarket without a detour. He decided against it though. Didn’t want to push his luck. She was still watching him appreciatively as he buckled his belt.

“Go get the car, Spike. Keys are in the hall table drawer. I’ll be two minutes.”

“I’m gone.” He stopped for a last kiss. “Don’t be long.”

“I won’t be.” She blew him another kiss. “This is a shopping trip you’re going to remember for a long time,” she thought.

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Buffy jumped up as soon as Spike left the room. She opened her wardrobe and took out the naughty leather top. It seemed appropriate. Well, not actually appropriate for supermarket shopping, but this was what had brought them together. If she hadn’t got Angelus all fired up, he never would have come after her, and Spike wouldn’t have had to rescue her from him. That night she’d wanted the earth to swallow her up. Little did she know then that it would lead to this. Or that the next time she’d wear the thing would be to the supermarket, of all places.

She pulled it on, teaming it with a lacy thong. Over the top she slipped on a pair of clean jeans and a zip up fleece. Trainers finished the ensemble. She didn’t want to give the game away too soon. Then she jumped as the car horn sounded, and ran down the stairs. As she locked the door behind her, she caught a glimpse of Spike’s mystified expression. Not what he’d been expecting, obviously. He looked her up and down as he put the car into reverse.

“You look, er um, nice.”

“Why, thank you Spike.” She put on her best impression of a southern USA accent, earning herself another strange look.

“Did I miss something here?”

“No.” She was having a lot of trouble keeping a straight face. Had never been good with secrets, and this one was so delicious. She wondered when the best time to reveal what she was wearing would be. Not while he was holding anything breakable, obviously. And of course, she didn’t want to flash the whole supermarket. They probably had laws about that sort of thing.

They listened to music, neither of them speaking, during the short drive to the shop. Spike, she noticed, kept giving her little sideways glances. It was as if he knew something was up, but couldn’t quite fathom it. She spent most of the time looking out of the window, and chewing her lip, she was so sure she was going to burst out laughing. This was going to be so much fun.

------------------------------


Spike collected a shopping cart and joined Buffy. Something was up. Her mood had changed just slightly. She was a little too hyper. He wanted to think it was because she was all wound up with the thought of what they were going to do later. But he didn’t think it was that. She was up to something. He could read it all over her face. But what was with the clothes? He’d fully expected her to surprise him, and she had. Not in the way he’d thought though. He was hoping for a skirt, at least. She had such fabulous legs. He’d be seeing them soon, he supposed, following her through the revolving door. Now, what the hell did sexy food look like?


--------------------------


“You’re a poet, and you can’t think of any sexy food? Shame on you” Buffy picked up a melon. “What about this?”

“Too messy.”

Buffy popped it in the cart. “Messy is good. Gonna pick up some whipped cream later.” She sashayed off, leaving him standing. His eyes wide, his mouth open. He snapped it shut and shook his head, then hurried after her. “Wait up Buffy. How about grapes?”

Buffy winked at him. “Catching on fast. You sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Nope. Do you really want asparagus?”

“No, not really.” They turned into the confectionery aisle. Chocolate would be good. And, she noticed, it was deserted. Time to put her plan into action. She grabbed at her zipper and made a show of trying to open it. “Spike, my zipper’s stuck, would you help me?”

“What?” Spike put down the box of chocolates he was looking at. “Here, gotta give it a big...whoa!”

The zipper went down and Spike’s eyes nearly popped right out of his head.

Buffy batted her eyelashes at him. “Something wrong, Spike?”

“Why you little...” Spike’s eyes were locked squarely on her chest. “You realise we’ve got to go straight home right now, don’t you?”

“But we haven’t finished our shopping yet Spike. Now, which chocolate do you like?”

“Sod the chocolate. I want you, lets go...” He suddenly made a grab at the fleece, holding it closed as an elderly couple walked by.

The old man winked at Spike, a broad grin on his face. “Need any help there, mate. I’m a lot younger than I look.”

The old woman gave them a vaguely scandalised look dragging her husband away, as Spike stood himself in front of Buffy, trying to shield her from them.

His face was slightly pink as he turned round. “Let’s do this up again before someone has a heart attack, eh.” He closed the zipper and slid it right up to her neck. “There, that’s better. Don’t want the whole store looking, do we?”

“Except you of course.” Buffy chose a box of chocolates and handed them to him. “Do you like these?”

Spike tossed them into the cart without even looking at them. “Damned right except me. That is for my eyes alone young lady.”

“Ooh, Spike, I think that car’s gone to your head.” Buffy walked off again, feeling well pleased with herself. This was a side of Spike she hadn’t seen until this afternoon. Caveman Spike. All protective and macho. He’d been like a boy with a toy driving her car. She hadn’t missed the smug little smirk he’d been trying to keep off his face. Or the ease with which he’d handled the vehicle.

The last time he’d had to protect her she’d been the damsel in distress, and he’d failed miserably at the macho bit. If Angelus had been seriously going to attack her, then Spike lying on the ground with a broken head would have been no use to her at all. This sort of thing was important to men, she supposed. And to tell the truth, she liked this protective vibe he was sending out. It was strange. Instead of making her feel helpless, it actually made her feel powerful. There is was again. That word. She tried not to overanalyse it, something she tended to do, but it was nice knowing that she made Spike feel all manly. And god knows, he made her feel more like a woman than she’d ever felt before. All of a sudden she wanted to go home too.


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Spike sleep-walked through the rest of the shopping. All he could think about was how she’d looked when she’d opened that fleece. And how he’d reacted. Why didn’t he just club her over the head and drag her home by her hair? She had every right to wear what she liked, when she liked. And she probably would too. But he’d sounded like a macho jerk. And he’d never been like this with Drusilla. She’d always taken a delight in wearing outrageous clothes and he’d been proud to show her off. Hadn’t cared who’d looked. Then why not Buffy?

He reached for his wallet when they got to the checkout, but she pushed it away. She wanted to pay? Fine. He could do caveman, and new-man. Pretty soon, he’d be doing willing slave, he reckoned. No, he was doing that already. If she said jump, his reply would be, how high? And he couldn’t take his eyes off that damned zipper. Every time her hand went to it - and she’d been doing that all round the store - he thought she was going to pull it down. She was doing it now. Fingering it lightly and sending him little glances. God, she was a tease. And this certainly was going to be an evening to remember.


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Buffy dropped her shopping bag onto the kitchen table and fished out the champagne. “Here,” she handed it to Spike. “You open this, corkscrew’s in there, and I’ll get the tub filled. It takes ages.”

He took the bottle. “As in a long time?”

“No, Spike. I can tell what you’re thinking.”

He started on the bottle. “What, you’re psychic now?”

“Don’t need to be.” She gave a knowing nod at the bulge in his jeans, and then made a big show of busying herself with the rest of the shopping. “Now where did I put those candles?”

“You’re a wicked little madam Buffy. Whoa.” He jumped back as champagne spilled over the neck of the bottle and splashed his jeans. “Did you work in a torture chamber in your last life?”

“I might have. Do you have any matches for these?” She held up the scented candles. “Vanilla or Spice, and what’s with the madam? You calling me a hooker?”

“Wouldn’t dare. Lighter’s in my coat pocket. And, a little madam is what we’d call a spoilt brat of a kid. Like you were, I’m guessing.” He took the candles from her and sniffed them in turn, indicating the vanilla. “This is kind of nice.”

“You have no idea how right you are, Spike.” She leaned back as she felt him move in behind her. “Umm, that bath needs filling.” They were never going to make it upstairs if he didn’t stop distracting her. She batted his hand away as it made for the zipper of her top.

“Tell me what you were like Buffy, when you were a kid. Did you have pigtails?”

“Yeah.”

“Want to show me?”

“Spike! That is so...for another evening. Look, take the wine and glasses, and go upstairs. Get that bath filled and I’ll see to this lot. Go.”

“Yes miss.” He gave her a little salute, picked up the things and then scooted out of the room as she threatened him with the wet dishtowel. She placed it back on the sink, remembering how he’d stuffed it down the back of her tee shirt, that night. How it had led to their first kiss.

He was being very sweet about all this she thought, as she hurried through the rest of the preparations. And the teasing banter was kind of nice. Made them seem like they’d been together for a longer time than just a week. She tipped the olives into a dish, wondering if they actually qualified as sexy food. They didn’t look very sexy sitting there. Spike hadn’t been much help at all in choosing the food, especially after she’d shown him the top. He’d said yes to everything she’d suggested, and hurried her on to the next aisle.

So, they had melon, chocolates, grapes, olives, and frozen strawberries and cream. The chocolate fudge ice cream could wait for later, she decided. She fetched Spike’s lighter and slung it into the bag with the candles. There was just the slightest twinge of nervousness as she climbed the stairs. Was this going to work? Had she ruined the mood by insisting on all this preparation? Spike had been all for leaping into the tub as soon as they’d arrived - perhaps that’s what they should have done. She wouldn’t blame him if he’s gone right off the idea altogether.

The bathroom was hazy with steam as she walked in. One look at Spike and she knew he definitely hadn’t gone off the idea. Already stripped to the waist, he took the tray from her and unhooked the carrier bag, dumping it on the floor. As his fingers slid her zipper down, he gave her a look that was pure wolf. “Been wanting to do this for a long time, “ he said, lazily pulling at the laces of the leather top. “Ever since that night you fixed my head.”

Buffy had to hold on to his elbows to stabilise herself. She held her breath as he pushed the sides of the leather top apart, felt it slither to the floor. It had been outrageously expensive, but worth every penny. Look where it had got her. Who it had got her. Her hands went to his belt buckle, all traces of nervousness gone.

“Light the candles Spike, I’ll get the bath oil.” She hardly recognised her own voice as she said it. All the light-heartedness had vanished, leaving something deadly serious and intense. As the main light went off, the room took on an other-worldly feel in the flickering candlelight. The shadows on Spike’s face, the planes of his chest, the heady scent of exotic bath oil. It reminded her of the night they’d visited the well-house. That feeling of being outside time, the world going away. Only that had had an innocence about it. It had been magical, and this was too. But this was a darker magic.

Buffy had thought she was going to feel silly, self-conscious, but as Spike knelt down in front of her and worked on her jeans, pulling them down her legs, taking her thong with them, she felt like a goddess. He was looking at her with such reverence as she stepped out of them. His hands tracing a path over her calves, her thighs, cupping her bottom. Pulling her towards his waiting mouth. He pushed her down so that she was sitting on the side of the semi-sunken tub, pulling her knees apart so that he had more room to work. She grabbed at his hair, pulling it too hard as she felt herself losing control. Heard him groan as she moved against him. Groped for him as he stepped away to pull off his own jeans.

And then the cool marble of the bathroom floor was at her back as he fumbled for a condom. He sank into her with a growl and she felt him nipping and licking at her neck, whispering naughty words in her ear, kissing her mouth with a ferocious intensity. Completely overwhelming her, and totally abandoning himself to the ecstasy so blatantly written on his face. And she revelled in it. Just the thought of how crazy she was making him made her want to come again and again. He was a wolf. Her wolf. And she wanted him to eat her up, so that she could be with him for ever. And we haven’t even gotten in the tub yet, she thought shakily.

When he came, he seemed to go on convulsing forever, and she held him and stroked his hair as they both floated back down to earth. Back to the hot, steamy bathroom. And when he finally lifted his head, he looked at her with a dazed expression and said just four words.

“I love you Buffy.”





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