Buffy just wasn’t designed for relaxing. She’d spent the whole day before watching television and chatting with Spike. She’d even had two decent nights of sleep in a row. She suspected it was telling that a night with Spike interrupted by The First was still better than most nights without him, though she wasn’t quite ready to accept all the ramifications of that thought. The point was she was all rested up. What she needed was some action, not ubervamp action, but a couple of good honest slays to warm up and stretch her muscles. She wondered if Willow would hang with Spike that evening so that she could patrol. Giles would be back as well, but she couldn’t really see asking him to Spike sit. Thoughts of her Watcher and his inevitable disapproval made her anxious. As usual, she pushed those feelings into a little ball and buried them.
Spike watched Buffy shift her feet for the third time since the last commercial break and smiled. He knew she wasn’t one for sitting still. “Feelin’ a bit restless, love?”
“What? No. I’m fine.”
He looked skeptical. “Buffy?”
She gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry. It’s not—I mean this is nice.” Buffy gestured back and forth between them and pressed her shoulder more firmly against his side. She wasn’t lying; being able to simply sit comfortably resting against Spike was an unexpected pleasure. Still, she was the Slayer. Action was in her blood. “I guess I’m a little antsy.”
Spike laughed. “I could do with a touch of violence myself.”
Her grin became a frown. She didn’t like his phrasing. She didn’t want violence. Did she? She just wanted to slay…to protect. It was her duty. Another reading of his words had her paling slightly. He wasn’t suggesting he was ready to patrol, was he? “You’re still healing. You can’t—j”
“I’m a vampire—may not be a hundred percent just yet, but I’m ready for a little rough and tumble. I get restless, same as you, pet.” He grinned at her disapproving frown because he knew it meant she was actually worried about him. The thought made his stomach warm and his eyes sting from the threat of tears. Buffy was worried about him. It bolstered his courage, and he pressed forward. “Come on. I’m just sayin’ we could both do with a bit of sparring—get the kinks out.”
“Kinks—wait you mean each other?”
“You got another sparring partner around here I don’t know about?” He played it up like a jealous lover. It was only partly an act.
“I don’t know, Spike.”
He pushed himself up from the couch and held out his hand to help her up. “I do.”
Letting him pull her up, Buffy glanced uneasily around the living room. “I really don’t want to break all the furniture and we can’t go outside for hours, maybe—”
“Basement. Plenty of room, once we move a few things out of the way.”
She wanted to argue more, to point out that she could hurt him and that he should be resting. She couldn’t, not while he was bouncing from foot to foot and grinning like a little boy on his way to the circus. She sighed and nodded.
They made quick work of clearing a space in the basement. It wasn’t difficult since Buffy had thrown away almost all of the basement’s contents after the previous year’s flood. She gave her surroundings a final survey to check for things she wouldn’t want damaged and didn’t find any. The floor was hard and she wished that she had mats for it like she’d had in her training space at the Magic Box. There was nothing she could do about it now. She looked up at Spike. “Anything I should try to avoid? How are your ribs doing?”
He laughed. “Nice try, love. I’m not gonna just spell out my weak spots for you.”
The first few blows and blocks were slow and tentative as they both fought to push past the nerves brought on by what both thought should be a comfortable exercise between them. The truth, they were both realizing, was that this was yet again new territory for them. They’d fought more times than either could remember. They were well matched; Buffy was stronger, but Spike was trickier and just as quick. They had fought while trying to kill each other and later without any real intent past the venting of anger but, despite Spike’s claim that dancing was all they had ever done, they had never simply sparred. Or at least, they’d never called it that.
Still, if anyone could really be her training partner, Buffy knew it was Spike. Finding her focus, she began to move a little faster, to attack with a touch more intent. She returned Spike’s grin as he followed suit.
A half an hour later she wore a light sheen of sweat and a bright smile. She pivoted to avoid Spike’s kick and giggled when he hit the ground. Her amusement distracted her from the quick swing of his arm around her knees. Her mouth made an ‘O’ of surprise as her ass met with the cold cement of the basement floor.
“Jerk.”
Spike smirked in response and leaned in to surprise her with a quick kiss before jumping to his feet. He offered her his arm but wasn’t surprised that she didn’t take it. The match was still on. His gut clenched with a mixture of lust and admiration as he watched her leap up. He’d spent a century fighting, paired off against countless warriors, and he’d never seen anyone move like she did. He’d felt it immediately. The first time he’d watched her he known that she wasn’t just a slayer; she was The Slayer. Capital T. Capital S. She was legend. He’d always considered fighting her an honor. It was also hot. He wanted to blame that on his demon. Surely getting off on fighting should be a demon trait, only he suspected it was William who got turned on by a strong woman.
As sorry as he was for all the harm he’d done since his turning, he couldn’t help but think it had been a good thing for William. His sad Victorian former self would likely have died from consumption while still a tightly wound virgin. He wondered if he’d be strong enough to do the right thing if he was ever given the choice to take it all back. Knowing that he’d never meet Buffy, could he choose to have never been turned? The stirring of his cock suggested that he was a selfish bastard and that he should be glad such a choice was unlikely to ever be given to him. Still, Spike wanted to believe that he’d do it. Surely, he’d do nearly anything to take back the hurt he’d brought her.
Buffy could tell he was distracted, and she wasn’t above taking advantage. She faked to the right before coming at him head on and tackling him to the floor. Careful so as not to slam his head against the concrete, she took him down hard and climbed on top of him. Flourishing an imaginary stake, she teased “And another vamp bites the dust.”
He bucked his hips, knocking her off, and pounced before she had a chance to get up. “Sorry love, looks like I’ll be biting something other than dust after all.” He kissed her neck chastely before pressing her hands to the floor. “Admit defeat, Slayer.”
She nearly laughed at his dramatic tone. “Not a chance.” Using a little more strength than she considered strictly fair given the playful tone of their sparring, she shoved him off and bolted up the stairs. The plan was simple. She would hide just out of sight behind the doorjamb in the living room and take him down as he came prowling by.
Only Spike took longer than she expected, so she came out of hiding to find him and ended up being the one on the floor.
“Bested again, pet. Say it!”
“No.” She was struggling half-heartedly when Xander ran out of the kitchen and slammed a cast iron pan down on Spike’s head.
Shivers ran through Xander’s body. He’d always known that Spike was a monster, he’d never been able to really trust him, but he’d still been shocked by the scene he’d walked in on. After all she’d done for him Xander thought, Spike had attacked Buffy again. He was raising his arms to get in a second swing with the pan when Buffy knocked him across the room.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Xander blinked confusedly. Buffy was cradling Spike’s head against her chest and glaring at him as though he was the demon. What was she thinking? “He was attacking you!”
Their yelling drew the crowd that had gone to collect Giles from the airport inside. Willow surveyed the scene with wide eyes.
“He wouldn’t do that.” Buffy yelled, turning to glare at the man who considered himself her best friend.
Xander used a chair to pull himself up. “He did do that, Buffy. He tried to rape you. Am I the only one here who remembers that?”
Buffy’s eyes went ice cold. “Get the hell out of my house.”
“Buffy!” Xander didn’t bother to hide the shock and hurt from his face.
“Now.” Speaking her final word on the subject, Buffy shot a warning glare in Willow’s direction then turned her attention back to Spike. She spoke quietly. “Are you okay?”
Spike nodded dazedly. “No worries. I’ve got a hard head. Take more than the boy’s got to crack it.” He could feel her shaking, knew Buffy was barely containing her rage, and he wondered where the hell it had come from. He let her push around his hair and check for blood for a few seconds before gently pulling her hands down. “I’m fine, love.”
“May I ask what the bloody hell is going on around here?” Giles didn’t need to speak loudly to command attention.
Three heads immediately turned to look in his direction.
His expression of disapproval was too much for Buffy. She stood up angrily. “Xander attacked Spike with a pot—from behind.”
Giles’ confusion grew. He shot a glance toward Willow and knew that she was nearly as confused as he was.
Spike accepted Buffy’s hand up. “It was an accident. The boy thought I was hurtin’ The Slayer.”
“And what, pray tell, gave him that impression?” Giles narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
Buffy stepped between her lover and her Watcher in an unconscious protective move. She was still shaking with anger. She couldn’t believe Xander’s stupidity. He hadn’t even taken a second before he’d just assumed the worst. Now she saw the same assumption working its way through Giles’ mind. She saw red. She was The Slayer. She was supposed to be the one in charge, and she’d been letting them make the decisions for far too long. “We were sparring, training, and if any of you would put your judgments and ignorance aside for even a moment you would see that.” If they’d just look, she thought, they would see that Spike was different, that he was incredible.
Willow’s brow furrowed. “I’m sure Xander wasn’t—”
“Wasn’t just watching, hoping that Spike would screw up so that he could be right—so he could rush in and be the hero? I’m sick of it!” The camel’s back was well and truly broken and the whole bale of hay was falling about her feet. Every thought, hurt, frustration she had been holding in wanted out. The Slayer was the one with the power, but only if she kept it. Being The Slayer might well mean that she would have a short and violent life, but it was still her life. She had a duty to protect the world from the forces of darkness not to do whatever her friends thought was best. All of them were so ready to judge her: to tell her what she was doing wrong, what she should think, whom she should love. Them! Like they were perfect! They’d pulled her from heaven and thought that she should be happy to be their puppet. “I want you all out of my house.”
Spike looked just as surprised as Willow and Giles. He placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. “It was just an accident, love.”
She turned to him and shook her head. “No. It wasn’t.” Without another word, Buffy stalked out of the kitchen.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Check it out-another chapter right away! Ooh-and I have another one just about ready to send to my lovely beta-reader. Oh yeah, that's right; I am going to finish this story. Boo-ya!!! Anyway, I think this is a fun chapter. I am hoping you guys will agree. If you do, please let me know. What the hell, let me know if you don't agree too.
I tried yelling "Danger, danger, Will Robinson." to get my cat to stop chewing on something that she shouldn't. Her responding glare suggested that she now believes that I am crazy, but she did stop chewing on the phone cord. The moral of this story is that I have been spending too much time alone in my office.
As always, I owe big thanks to SanityFair for her beta-reading. If I ever get to meet her I am going to give her a big hug.If any of you guys meet her before me you should give her a warm up hug. Any mistakes are my own. The characters and verse belong to Whedon and Mutant Enemy and a whole slew of other people who aren't me. The story is mine though and I like it. :)
I tried yelling "Danger, danger, Will Robinson." to get my cat to stop chewing on something that she shouldn't. Her responding glare suggested that she now believes that I am crazy, but she did stop chewing on the phone cord. The moral of this story is that I have been spending too much time alone in my office.
As always, I owe big thanks to SanityFair for her beta-reading. If I ever get to meet her I am going to give her a big hug.If any of you guys meet her before me you should give her a warm up hug. Any mistakes are my own. The characters and verse belong to Whedon and Mutant Enemy and a whole slew of other people who aren't me. The story is mine though and I like it. :)
Chapter End Notes:
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