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Chapter Eight:

Spike escorted Buffy out onto the sidewalk clutching a bag containing cigarettes and the infamous package of cookies. Despite all the upheaval, Scott had been kind enough to let Spike purchase those items when he explained that they were needed to counteract the trauma of the night. They quickly reached Spike’s building. Spike took out a set of keys and unlocked a glass door. He led Buffy to an elevator and once inside pressed the button for the fourth floor. Spike noticed that she hadn’t said a word since they had left the store.

“You still with me, pet?”

Buffy looked up. “Huh…oh…yeah.” She looked back down at the floor.

Spike sighed. Finally, the elevator dinged alerting them that they had reached Spike’s floor. The elevator doors opened up to a short hallway with a door at the end. Spike put his hand above Buffy’s elbow and led her forward. He unlocked the door and pulled her inside, shutting it behind them.

Buffy finally looked up again. “Oooh,” she breathed as she took in the large open floor plan. To her right, she could see a large kitchen with stainless steel appliances and black granite countertops. There was a sturdy looking cherry wood table in the dining area located to the side of the kitchen. To her left, there was a huge living room with two overstuffed black couches, a black leather recliner, and a cherry wood coffee table. Expensive looking lamps adorned the end tables on either side of the larger couch and a flatscreen television hung on one wall. Buffy could see a hallway towards the back of the room and assumed it led to the bedroom and bathroom. No way he affords this place on a professor’s salary alone. Buffy realized that she was being spoken to but all she caught was, “Don’t you think?” Buffy furrowed her brow, “Don’t I think what?”

“I was just saying that maybe now would be a good time to introduce ourselves.” Spike paused as Buffy seemed to be pondering what he was saying. “Contrary to popular belief, my name is not asshole or fuckhead or my personal favorite, cross-dressing freak,” he joked hoping to lighten the mood. “I generally go by Spike.”

Buffy continued thinking for a moment before her eyes opened wide and her expression became panicked, “Oh my god! I totally came home with you without even knowing your name! God, even five year olds know not to go home with strangers! What’s wrong with me?!”

“Relax, pet,” Spike murmured in a soothing voice. “You know my name now, and we’re hardly strangers at this point.”

Buffy took a deep breath. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m just a little shaken up.”

Spike smiled down at her. “More than understandable, luv. After what we just went—“

“Spike! Your name is Spike?! Like a dog? You’re kidding me?! Professor Spike! Oh my god, that’s priceless!”

Spike scowled, “All right, that’s enough! It’s a nickname! Not like I go by that down at the university. It’s Professor William James there. But if it’s all the same to you, since you’re not my student, let’s just stick with Spike.”

Buffy looked up at him as she laughed softly to herself. “You look like a Spike.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Okay, Chuckles, you know my name now. How about introducing yourself since you’re standing in my flat bleeding on my carpet.” Buffy looked down. Sure enough, a drop of blood had trickled down her leg and landed on Spike’s plush cream-colored carpet.

She blushed. “Buffy… Buffy Summers. Sorry about the carpet…”

“S’all right, Buffy.” Spike gestured towards a couch, “why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll see to your leg.” Buffy crossed the living room and sat on the smaller of the two couches. “I’ll be right back, pet. Gonna get some bandages.” Spike disappeared down the hallway at the back of the room. While she was waiting for him to return, Buffy admired the many abstract paintings that were hanging on the walls. I like his taste. I wonder if he knows the artist. She noted the best aspect of the room, the two large windows with a set of French doors between leading out to a balcony.

“All right,” Spike said as he walked back in the room and sat alcohol, cotton pads, and bandages on the coffee table. “Let me take a look.” Spike kneeled on the floor in front of Buffy and began examining her knee. He’s so gentle. After our previous encounters, I would have never guessed he could have such a soft touch.

“Luv, I’m sorry, but this is going to sting a bit.” Spike poured alcohol on a cotton pad and gave Buffy an apologetic look before dabbing it on her knee. She hissed in pain. “Sorry, luv,” Spike murmured as he continued disinfecting her wound and cleaning the blood from her leg. And didn’t his voice used to be really abrasive? When did that change? Spike looked up at Buffy. “Almost done, luv. Just have to bandage you up.” He resumed his work on her knee. Were his eyes always so blue?

A moment later, Spike leaned back. “All done, pet.” Buffy smiled down at him. My god, she’s beautiful, and her skin is so, so soft. I wish I still had a reason to have my hands on her.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to help me. I mean after all the names I’ve called you—”

“We’ve both said our fair share of harsh words to one another, I reckon.” Spike reached up and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “But that’s all in the past, luv.” He trailed his hand down her hair and settled it on her shoulder softly stroking his thumb back and forth. So beautiful.

Buffy felt her heart speed up. Her eyes flickered down to his mouth. Were his lips always so full? If I just leaned forward a little, I could--

Spike noticed Buffy’s face coming closer ever so slowly. Is she going to—oh, I hope she’s going to—maybe I should just-- Spike carefully edged forward, allowing his hand to slide around Buffy’s back.

Buffy sighed as she enjoyed the feel of Spike’s warm hand through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. Just a little...bit… closer. Oh my god, I’m about to…oh my god… oh my god...

“Oh my god!” Buffy stood up so abruptly that Spike toppled backwards and hit his ass on the coffee table knocking it half a foot across the floor and tipping the bottle of alcohol.

“Bloody hell! What was that for?!”

“Oh, s-s-sorry,” Buffy stuttered. “I was just…uh…I was…I was reliving the robbery.” Buffy cringed at how flaky she sounded.

“Well next time you’re gonna have a bloody flashback, could you give a bloke a little warning?” Spike stood up rubbing his rear.

“Sorry. Really.” Oh my god. I almost kissed him. I just had sex with one stranger and now I’m off trying to kiss another, and I really want to kiss him. I really want him. I’m such a huge slut. I’m…I’m Faith.

“Flashback again, luv?” Buffy noticed Spike looking at her with his head cocked to the side.

“Oh…no…I was just admiring your place. It’s huge. So much better than the little closet I live in.” Buffy laughed nervously.

“Well, I did my time in closets as well, pet.”

“Yeah, but now you’re out of the closet!” Buffy’s eyes got wide. “I mean—I didn’t mean—”

Spike’s lips twitched. “I know what you meant, luv.”

“Good, because I don’t think you’re gay or anything. Not that there would be anything wrong if you were, because my friends Willow and Tara are totally gay and they’re great. So—”

“Not gay, luv, and you’re babbling.” And bloody adorable while you’re doing it.

“Oh… well, I do that when I’m nervous. Not that you make me nervous. I mean, it’s just that we’ve had a nerve-racking night what with the beer spilling, cookies, and gun pointing. Not that cookies on their own are scary. I’m not some freak that’s all like aaaaaaaugh cookies or anything. In fact, I love cookies—”

“Luv, calm down. I’m well aware of your fondness for cookies. I assumed you must think rather highly of that particular baked good from your willingness to fight me over them. Now, why don’t you sit back down and relax for a minute. Like you said, it’s been a rather trying night for both of us.”

“Thanks, but I think I should just be heading out. I really appreciate you bandaging my knee and everything, but it’s late—” She looked out the window towards the rising sun “--Uh, early, and I should really get home.”

Spike raised an eyebrow, “Not going anywhere unless it’s in a cab, luv.”

“No, really, it’s fine. I mean I already almost got killed tonight. What’s the likelihood of it happening again?” My god, I am a giant ho-bag. I am going to jump this man if I don’t walk out that door. I need to get home to my shower massager ASAP.

“Sit,” Spike ordered. “I’ll call you a cab.”

Buffy let out a huge exaggerated sigh and flopped back down on the couch. “Fiiiine. God, what’s with you people and your cabs? Take a cab, Buffy. Don’t you dare walk home by yourself, Buffy. Let me hold you hostage until you do my bidding, Buffy.”

Spike raised a quizzical eyebrow, but when Buffy made no further effort to explain herself, he picked up the phone on the end table. Buffy chewed on her lip and observed Spike as he called for the cab. He looks so lean but strong, I wonder what’s under that shirt… and those cheekbones…how did everyone else notice how hot he is before me?

“All right, luv, they’re on the way. We should be able to watch for them out the window.” Spike walked across the room and leaned against the wall next to the window. Could have sworn she was going to kiss me. Could I have read her all wrong? Am I that hard up for sex, since I’ve boycotted Drusilla? Hard up? Something’s gonna be hard if she doesn’t stop biting her lip like that. I bet that will send her running for the door before the cab gets here. Spike shook his head and sighed.

God. Why is he looking at me like that? Oh my god, he thinks I’m some kind of freak! He can tell that I want to throw him down on the floor and have my way with him, and he thinks I’m some kind of depraved sex maniac.

“Cab’s pulling in, luv.”

Buffy jumped up. “Oh…good…I’ll be going now. Thanks again!”

Spike pushed off the wall and followed Buffy to the door. “I’ll walk you down, pet.”

“No need! I’ve got it from here!” Buffy pulled the door open.

“Luv—” Spike was cut off by Buffy slipping through the door and closing it in his face.

Bloody hell. She couldn’t get away fast enough. Maybe you should just let this one go, mate…but it wouldn’t be right not to check on her after everything we went through together. Didn’t think to get her number. He smirked. But I do know where she works.

Spike let out a huge sigh and laid his forehead against the door. I need a nap, a smoke…and a good wank…or two.


Chapter End Notes:
Still with me? The next chapter only exists as a loose outline in my head. I'm gonna need a little motivation to flush it out and commit it to type.



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