Shaddyr wanted ice cream smut. Practically dared me to write it, and I usually will take a dare, providing I don't have to risk my life or eat anything disgusting. Now, only a pervert would try and make something as wholesome as ice cream smutty. So... let's all bask in our perversity, shall we? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: The Emperor of Ice Cream
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17
(I sort of screwed around with canon just
a bit. Angel is gone to hell and NOT coming
back. Spike came back cuz he wanted Buffy.
This would be set the Xmas after high school
grad)
Part one.....
A few weeks before Christmas...
"Do you have any idea where you're going?"
"Yes! See...look at the map. Says "you are here".
Buffy turned around and pointed at the entrance to
Macy's. "I mean...here!"
Spike transferred the packages from his right hand
to his left, then glanced at his watch. "Buffy! We've
been in this sodding mall for almost two hours!"
"You make that sound like a bad thing," she re-
plied, scanning the directory for the store she wanted.
He shifted his feet impatiently. "It's an hour and forty five
minutes longer than I've ever stayed before," he informed
her. "When are you gonna be finished?"
"Aha!" She turned around and headed for the escalator. "I
found it....it's on the first floor after all."
Spike heaved a dramatic sigh. "I don't know how I let you
talk me into this sort of thing," he grumbled.
"What sort of thing?" Buffy asked, stepping on to the
moving stairs.
"Christmas shopping!" he snorted. "Vampires do NOT go
Christmas shopping."
She ignored his grouchy tone and grinned at him. "This
one does...if he wants to be MY best friend."
Spike followed after her, not commenting on her last
remark. He had absolutely no interest in being her best
friend. He had a much more intimate association in mind.
It was the reason he'd returned to this crappy little town to
begin with.
Simply put...he wanted Buffy. HAD wanted her from the
moment he'd laid eyes on her for the first time.
He'd put up with a lot of shit to get what he wanted. First
from her and her friends, then from Angelus. Every time
that asshole had decided to take a stroll down memory
lane and recount every detail of his one night stand with
the slayer, Spike had clenched his jaw until it was sore.
He hated the fact that Angel had been the one to de-
flower the juicy little treat that was Buffy. However, he
cheered himself with the knowledge that Angel...or rather
Angelus...was roasting in hell at this very moment, and
had no further access to the slayer. The playing field had
been nicely leveled, and after leaving Dru in Brazil and
coming back to find Buffy, he was more than ready to play.
Spike had bided his time, waiting for her to get over her
trauma. Slowly and methodically, he had insinuated
himself into her life, shocking the hell out of her friends
and watcher by joining in with her on her nightly duties.
Although he'd pulled their asses out of more than one
sticky situation, it hadn't been until the town's whack-job
mayor tried to slaughter everyone at Buffy's high school
graduation that they'd finally begun to believe that he was
there to help...and that he wasn't going anywhere.
He knew the other vamps in town were wondering what the
hell he was up to, but he didn't care. The more time he
spent with Buffy, the more his lust for her began to change
into deeper feelings. The desire still raged through him, but
it was tempered now by love.
Spike remembered the moment he'd realized that he was
in love with the slayer. It was right around her 18th birth-
day, when the council of watchers had decided to put her
through their little "test", to see if she could handle herself
without her enhanced slayer abilities.
He'd never wanted to kill someone so badly as he had
that night, simply for the pure pleasure of it. All he could think
of was strangling Travers for risking Buffy's life the way he
had; not to mention how much he'd wanted to save a good solid
punch in the face for her watcher, who'd allowed that
thing to be done to her...had participated in it by shoving
a needle into her.
One week later, he had moved out of the hotel he'd
been staying at and back into the mansion on Crawford
street. It was only a few blocks from Buffy's house, and
he wanted to be close by if she needed him.
A few months after that, Buffy had shown up one night
and asked him to take her to her senior prom. After
griping about it for a while, he'd had his car detailed
until it was pristine inside and out, suited up in the required
attire, and presented himself on her doorstep, holding a
wrist corsage of deep red rosebuds.
He'd nearly swallowed his tongue when she'd come down-
stairs wearing her pink prom gown, it's color complimenting
her lightly tanned skin and long, honey colored hair. It was
snug in all the right places, and he'd had to force down an
immediate desire to strip it off her and see everything the
dress was concealing.
Difficult as it had been, he'd remained a gentleman all
evening, and she'd thanked him for it by kissing him good-
night very sweetly.
He had spent the rest of the night alternating between
dreaming of her when he was able to sleep, and fanta-
sizing about her as he tossed off.
Since that night, there had been a few kisses here
and there, and one extremely heavy make out session,
interrupted by her mother coming home just when he had
gotten his hand up under Buffy's sweater.
Frankly, the unfulfilled lust was getting old fast. If some-
thing didn't happen and happen soon, he was going to
go quietly insane.
*******************************************************
"You're a real blonde, you are."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Means you're a tad on the brainless side,
luv." He shrugged. "For instance, d'ya know
what I'd do if you threw a grenade at me?"
"What?" she asked.
"Pull the pin and throw it back."
"Oh, brother." She rolled her eyes.
"What!? That was funny!"
********************************************************
"So, who's left on your list?" Spike asked, staying
right on Buffy's heels as she skipped down the
escalator.
"You know," she said over her shoulder. "I'm start-
ing to think you're in a big hurry to get out of here."
"Well, what would make you think a thing like that,
babe?" he countered.
"Never mind." She stepped off the escalator and
turned in the direction of a candy store. "I'm totally
insulted. Here I am, asking you along to keep me
company and you act like you can't wait to be rid
of me."
He laughed. "You asked me along to be your
beast of burden," he replied. "Who's the one carrying
all the parcels here?"
"That would be you," she said, turning to face him
with a smile that made him weak in the knees. "My
hero."
Spike stared down into her big green eyes, entranced
as he always was when she turned that luminous gaze
on him. She licked her lips and tilted her face up in a
clear invitation.
As he lowered his head to accept her offer, he was
put off by the shrill shriek of another girl calling Buffy's
name.
"Cindy! Hi!" Buffy smiled and dashed across a line of
children waiting to see Santa Claus. The girl she was
greeting was standing in front of Santa's gingerbread
house, and was dressed as one of his elves as she
directed children up to and back down from Santa's
lap.
Spike stood and waited as the two girls exchanged
all their current news, so bored that his teeth were
falling asleep.
"Guess who's playing Santa?" Cindy asked. "Dan
Winters."
Buffy grinned widely. "Dan Winters? From the football
team? Oh, he is SUCH a hottie!"
Rolling his eyes, Spike sighed loudly. He didn't
regain any interest in the conversation until he noticed
"Santa" approaching the two girls.
"Hey Buffy," the fake Santa Claus said, smiling at her
in a way Spike found completely unacceptable. "Want
your picture taken on Santa's lap?"
Spike narrowed his eyes. "Oh, I don't think so," he
said, answering the question for Buffy. Sliding his free
arm around her waist, he pulled her possessively close.
"Only 19 more shopping days till Christmas, luv," he
informed her. "And we still have a lot to do. See you
around, Saint Nick."
When they were a good thirty feet from Santa and his
helper, Buffy stopped and pushed Spike off of her. "What
was that all about?" she demanded.
Unwilling to admit that he'd had an insane desire to beat
the crap out of Santa in front of a lot of children, Spike
cast around in his mind for a valid explanation. "Hey!
Look at that!" he announced suddenly, pointing at a
shoe store. "Everything's 50 to 75 percent off." He shrugged
and cleared his throat. "That's pretty good....right?"
*****************************************************
"For someone who bleaches his hair, you've
had a few blonde moments, too."
"You calling me dumb, Slayer?"
"Well, you know what happened when you stayed
up all night to see where the sun went?"
"What?"
"It finally dawned on you."
"Ouch."
'Well, you asked for it."
*******************************************************
"What do you think?"
"They look great. So did the other twelve pairs
you tried."
Buffy sighed. "I don't know." She kicked the moss
green pump off, and sat back in the chair. She had a
strappy black evening shoe on her other foot, and she
purposely lifted her skirt a little higher and pointed her
toe. "I kind of like this one....don't you?"
Spike gazed at the creamy expanse of her thigh. "Love
it," he muttered. "S'absolutely gorgeous."
Smiling, Buffy ran her fingers up her leg, pretending to
smooth her stocking. She lifted her foot and placed
it on his knee. "Could you unbuckle it for me?" she asked.
He did as she asked. Dropping the shoe back into it's
box, he lightly ran his fingers over her sensitive instep,
chuckling when she jerked her foot out of his grasp.
"Hey!" she squeaked. "Tickling's not fair!"
Spike grinned. "Who ever told you that life was fair?"
"I read it in a book!" She swatted at his hand. "Now
cut it out!"
He heaved a dramatic sigh of exasperation. "Have
you made up your mind which shoes you want?" he
asked, gesturing at the growing pile of boxes.
"I don't know," she mused, considering the footwear
she'd tried on. "I really like the black ones."
"Good," he said, beginning to stand.
"But, then again, I like the red ones too."
He sat down again. "Too?"
"Uh-huh." Her eye was caught by another
display. "Oh...I didn't see those before!" She
tried to stand up, but Spike's hand darted out
and caught her.
"Oh, no, you do NOT," he said, yanking her
back into the chair. "You're gonna end up trying on
every shoe in the store, and I haven't got the strength.
Get the black ones."
"But I don't..."
"Get the black ones," he repeated.
"Did YOU like the black ones?" she asked.
Spike closed his eyes briefly. "More than life itself."
Buffy shrugged. "Okay...I'll get the black ones." Lean-
ing forward, she began pawing through all the boxes.
"Um...which black ones did you like?"
*******************************************************
"You know, luv...I think I've found a way to make
you shut your little mouth."
"And that would be?"
"I'll just ask you to tell me what's on your mind."
" Oh, har-dee-har-har!"
***********************************************************
"Buffy...can we sit down for a minute?"
She turned around and walked back to where he'd
stopped. "What's the matter?" she asked, placing
her hands on her hips. "Is the 'big bad' all tired out
from a little shopping?"
"A LITTLE shopping? Slayer...we've lapped this mall
fifteen times."
Buffy folded her arms across her chest. "Oh, all right,"
she gave in. "But just for a minute. I still have a ton of
stuff to do."
"That's all I ask for, luv. Come on." He led her in the
direction of the food court. "You hungry?" he asked.
"No." She gave him a wary look. "Are YOU?"
Spike laughed. "Not in the way you mean," he said. "How
about some ice cream?"
Her expression changed instantly. "I love ice cream,"
she smiled.
"I know you do." He looked around, spotting a small shop
at the furthest end of the food court. The sign over the
entrance read...The Emperor of Ice Cream... in fancy gold
lettering.
**********************************************************
"Spike...do you know what I see when I look in
your eyes?"
"Tell me, luv."
"The back of your head."
"Not bad, Slayer. Not bad at all."
*********************************************************
They glanced around the small ice cream shop. It
was decorated in soft pastels, with pictures of
people eating ice cream and smiling like idiots.
There seemed to be no one working there, and
Spike rapped his fist on the window of the display
case. "Heads up!" he said loudly. "You've got cus-
tomers."
A small door in the back of the shop opened and
an old man emerged. He was short, with a thick
abundance of snowy white hair, and a friendly smile.
Dressed in a lime green velvet vest, gaily striped
trousers, and a lime green bow tie, he was an odd
sight to be sure.
Spike looked him up and down. "The Emperor, I presume?"
The little man smiled and raised his hands. "Let the lamp
affix it's beam," he said. "The only emperor...is the emperor
of ice cream." Placing one hand on his chest, he bowed
slightly.
Buffy looked up at Spike. "What?"
He shook his head. "It's a poem," he explained. "All right,
your highness. My lady wants ice cream."
The Emperor inclined his head slightly towards Buffy. "Then
ice cream she shall have," he said, his eyes bright with
merriment. "And I only sell the very best. The most mouth
watering, delectable ice cream in this or any other galaxy."
With a flourish, he produced an ice cream scoop. "Now...what
is the lady's preference?"
Buffy studied the various flavors before her. There were ten
different 5 gallon tubs to choose from, and every one of them
was untouched, as though the lids had just been taken off.
The little man watched her face as she decided. "I could be
wrong," he said, winking at her. "But you appear to be a young
lady who appreciates fine chocolate."
She smiled. "You're not wrong," she agreed.
"Then I recommend the chocolate fudge. It's almost sin-
fully delicious."
Buffy nodded. "Works for me."
After handing her the ice cream cone, he turned his attention
on Spike. "And for you?"
Spike shook his head as he reached for his wallet and extracted
a ten dollar bill. "No, thanks mate. I'm fine."
The Emperor's smile faltered. "Oh, no! No, you must have some
as well," he said, leaning hard on the word 'must'.
"I don't want any," Spike said again. "Now, how much?"
The man looked puzzled and a little put out. "Strawberry,
perhaps?" he suggested. "Made with the freshest fruit and
cream."
Buffy was standing to one side as they bickered, licking the
drops of ice cream that trickled down the sides of the cone.
As she watched Spike lean forward slightly, she began to
feel a little flushed. Her heart rate kicked up a fraction and
she felt a slight dizziness that lasted no more than a moment.
Before she knew what she was doing or why, she chimed
in with her opinion. "Get some ice cream," she urged him.
When he turned to look at her, her eyes widened briefly
with appreciation. Sometimes, she forgot how good looking
Spike was...not to mention sexy.
For some reason, it was suddenly very important that he have
ice cream along with her. "Get the strawberry" she urged.
"It sounds really good, and I....I want to taste it too."
"You do?" he asked. When she nodded eagerly, he gave
in. "Strawberry it is."
The emperor beamed. "An excellent choice you've made,"
he said, adding "You have NO idea," under his breath.
************************************************************
"I can always tell when you've been using your
computer, luv."
"How's that?"
"There's white out on the screen."
"I'm gonna hit you now."
*******************************************
TBC.....
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