A hand on her shoulder caused Buffy to jump, knock over the pile of papers next to the computer, and let out a high-pitched squeak.
“I’m sorry!” Xander said, helping her gather up her papers. “I usually have this effect on women.”
Buffy laughed and accepted his apology. “I was just off in Buffy-world, I tend to totally space out when I’m there. So what’s up?”
“You’ve been down here for hours, thought I’d come check on you,” he said. “And, well, I was bored. Nothing to do, Gunn and Fred are back though so I thought we could all go out or something.”
“Adult beverages in this plan?”
“Always.”
“Then I’m in, I just have a few things left to do here.”
“Awesome,” he said happily. “I’ll ask the others if they’re up for it.”
Buffy turned back to her computer, thankful it hadn’t been open to one of the files she had been memorizing just a few minutes before. She hastily finished up, making sure the disk had all her work on it, and closed down the system.
“We going out?” Gunn said as she came downstairs. He was on the couch with Fred, watching the news.
“Sounds good to me,” Buffy agreed. “Let me put on something that I haven’t been working in all day?”
Fred jumped up and agreed, “Girls have to primp. Boys, be patient.”
When Spike got back to the mansion that night, he listened carefully for signs of life, and hearing none, felt a pang of disappointment. Fred had called him before his dinner meeting with Margaret Walsh, owner of a pharmaceutical company, telling him that the house would probably be empty when he got back, but to call her if he needed anything. He had hoped that by stopping by a bar on the way home to have a few drinks that they’d all be back by now. That Buffy would be back by now.
He hated being alone in this house. He knew it was a ridiculous, he was a grown man with plenty of money, but he liked the comfort of having people around. As strange as he knew it was to have Fred, Lorne, Xander, and now Gunn and Buffy living here, he needed to know that there was life around him. Not just the cold, empty quiet.
He sighed and dragged himself into his study.
Buffy had slipped away their first few minutes at the club, quickly finding a pay phone and informing Giles of their location. He’d arrived about a half an hour later, sticking out like a sore thumb in the trendy LA hotspot. She’d excused herself to the restroom, quickly conferenced with him and written down everything she could remember from the files she’d hacked into, and bid him goodbye, rushing back to her group before anyone but Gunn had even realized she was gone.
Her pseudo-boyfriend winked at her as she sat down, and she draped one arm over his shoulders, not missing the slight flicker of sadness in Fred’s eyes. “Let’s get this party started,” she grinned.
Four hours later, Xander and Buffy had bonded over a mutual love for bad foreign films and TV, and were laughing as they staggered from Gunn’s truck to the house.
“With the water buffalo! And the coins!” Buffy squealed. Designated driver Gunn and light-weight Fred were a few steps behind, Fred using the man’s arm for balance.
“So you and Buffy…” Fred blurted out.
“Yeah?” Gunn asked, glancing ahead at the giggling blonde.
“Oh, n-n-nothing,” she stammered, “I just…is it really serious with you guys? ‘Cause you don’t seem---never mind, none of my business.”
They’d caught up to Xander and Buffy so the conversation had to stop, but the meaning behind her words didn’t slip past Gunn. He and Buffy needed to do more than just maintain their fake identities---they had to prove their relationship, otherwise people might start to wonder. With that thought, he kissed Buffy’s cheek before entering the house.
No one noticed Spike on the balcony above, smoking a cigarette and staring down at them.
Buffy could not sleep. She was still pretty tipsy, for one, and the slight spinning of the room kept her from closing her eyes. It didn’t help that Gunn was snoring loudly next to her, an obnoxious sound that did nothing to help her relax. Finally, in her hazy state her mind kept drifting to her boss, which led to no tiredness, but rather, an energetic pulsing throughout her body that started in her lips and ran towards her sex
She groaned and slipped out of bed, pulling on a sweatshirt over her tank-top and shorts before grabbing her shoes and heading outside. The common room of the bottom floor led out to a patio underneath the balcony above, and a few steps down was the gorgeous pool and waterfall.
Buffy headed to the edge of the pool and stuck her feet in the cool, crystal clear water, leaning back on her hands and staring up at the midnight sky. Her mind was racing a million miles an hour, on subjects ranging from how she could get Fred and Gunn together when Gunn was supposed to be her boyfriend, to whether or not the bank accounts she’d been working on would yield any interesting information to if Spike ever skinny-dipped in this very pool.
At that last thought she fell flat on her back, closing her eyes and sighing. When she opened them again, the object of her musings was hovering above her.
“I thought maybe you had died,” Spike said as she sat up quickly.
“Not so much,” she laughed. “Good thing I’m still a little tipsy, sober I would have screamed. Except that I’m not drunk. No. I’m professional—“
Spike laughed at her sudden nervousness. “Don’t worry, pet. Having a little fun off hours is never a problem.”
“Oh good,” she breathed. “Anyway, what is it with you people in this house sneaking up on me?”
“We’re trained for it,” he said, sitting down next to her and dipping his own feet into the water. “Sneak attacks.”
“Well you were trained very well.”
“Thanks, I try.”
“So what are you doing up at this hour?” Buffy asked, glancing at her watch and finding it to be three in the morning.
“Mild case of insomnia that a few whiskeys couldn’t cure,” Spike said, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his sweatpants. At the wrinkling of Buffy’s nose, he instantly put them back.
“I’m sorry, that was rude,” she said. “It’s your house you---give yourself cancer if you want.”
“Nah, I’m trying to quit anyway.”
“Really?”
“Sure, bloody impossible it is.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“So how was your evening?” Spike asked, every cell in his body humming in awareness of her presence just a few inches away.
“Fun! Xander’s a character,” she laughed. “And Fred and I seem to get along well.” After a brief silence, she offered up, “You should have come.”
He snorted. “You didn’t need an old man tagging along for your fun.”
“Old man? Hardly,” Buffy scoffed. “What are you, 36?”
He glanced at her in surprise. “Nice guess, love.”
Buffy covered her knowledge of William Grace personal history easily, “I’m excellent at guessing ages. Although you definitely look a lot younger than that.”
“So I’ve been told,” he mimed her earlier words. “But I’m still a good deal older than you lot. Probably need a walker to navigate those clubs.”
“Oh right, and then we’ll stick you in Depends.”
“Cute.”
“I’ve often thought so.”
Spike kicked his foot out and splashed her with pool water.
“Oh…you did not just do that!” Buffy said. “I give you ten seconds to apologize.”
Spike counted to nine in his head, and then splashed her again, feeling like a teenager in her company.
“You are so dead!” She cried out, reaching down to splash him back. He allowed her one move of retaliation, laughing, then quickly grabbed her arms and held her tight as he kicked more water on her. She struggled against his body, then began to squeal as he started to tickle her. He dipped his hands under her sweatshirt quick as lightning to continue his brutal attack.
“Not—playing---fair!” She managed to say in between breathless giggles. “Stop—stop—can’t---breathe---air.”
He ceased his assault, but left his hands resting on her tiny waist, underneath her shirt. She gazed up at him as she regained her breath, and almost as if he had no control over his actions, he reached up and brushed a lock of blonde hair away from her face.
They stared at each other for what could have been ten seconds or ten minutes. Slowly, Spike began to lean towards her, cupping her face, entranced by her eyes, her lips, her smooth skin.
Just as their lips were about to meet, Buffy blurted out, “Gunn.” Saying the name caused her lip to move and to brush, ever so slightly, against his. It sent shivers throughout both of them. Her body screaming at her not to, Buffy got up as she latched on to the one excuse she could use to convince herself not to jump Spike Grace pool side. “I have to…Gunn.”
With that, she ran back into the house.
[Reviews - 468]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 5082 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm ecstatic that there's people already loving this story, and I promise you, there is some good stuff coming up. As it's my first fic, I'd really love some more positive reinforcement. And, again, I'm merely borrowing these characters and playing with them like Barbie dolls. I have no rights to them.