[Reviews - 15]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2215 times

- Text Size +




“Time to wake up, sleepy head.”



“Not yet. I don’t want to go to school today,” Buffy groaned brushing the annoying hand from her shoulder. How she hated her mother’s cheerful demeanor in the morning. She had never been a morning person, even before finding out about the whole Slayer gig, and spending the night exploring the house didn’t help matters… The house… Spike! Her eyes snapped open to find his smiling face a few inches above her own.



“Well, that was rather cliché, wasn’t it, pet?” he laughed.



“Very funny!” she groaned raising a hand to his chest and giving him a rough shove as she scrambled from the bed. “Isn’t it enough that you’re holding me prisoner? Can’t you leave me sleep?”



“Can’t have you sleeping the morning away, luv,” he replied with a shrug.



“Like you can tell it’s morning with the windows bricked up,” she snapped.



“Vampire, remember?” he replied smugly. “We do tend to know when morning’s coming. Besides, breakfast will be ready soon. Thought you’d want to clean up a bit.”



“You made breakfast?” She leaned her back against the wall as visions of scrambled eggs topped with a generous helping of Type O ran through her mind. “Since when do you cook?”



“You pick up a few things over the years,” Spike replied sounding rather proud of himself. “Vampire’s don’t have to eat, but variety is nice, even if it’s not nourishing. Now, go grab a shower while I finish up. You’ll find some clothes in the bathroom.”



“You stole my clothes too?” she sighed.



“Well, yeah,” he replied heading for the door. “Couldn’t really hit the mall, could I? And wouldn’t want you running around naked, would we?”



“You wish!” Buffy hissed at the empty doorframe. The pictures she had found in Spike’s crypt had been bad enough, but the idea of the vampire being in her room pawing through her things made her skin crawl.



She squared her shoulders and headed for the bathroom. More than anything, she wanted to give the interloping vampire a huge piece of her mind, but it would have to wait. If she wanted to get out of the house, she was going to have to be—God, she hated the thought—nice to Spike.



The bathroom was just as dated as the appliances in the kitchen. Apparently, whoever built the house thought the best way to wake a person up was the use of sunny yellow tiling. Buffy found her clothes hanging on a towel rack next to the sink where Spike had placed a green toothbrush still fresh in the packaging for her use. She was rather surprised that Spike hadn’t nicked her toothbrush when he had taken her clothes. Then again, it would have been hard for her to overlook a missing toothbrush or hair dryer. Although, she probably would have accused Dawn of borrowing her things without asking like she had done with the blue silk top that was now hanging on the towel rack. She’d have to remember to apologize to her sister when she got home.



Buffy poked her head around the door and glanced down the hallway towards the stairway. She could hear the sounds of clanging pans and utensils coming from the kitchen. It was still rather hard to picture Spike being all domestic, but at least she knew where he was while she was showering considering there wasn’t any lock on the door. Satisfied that her host was otherwise occupied, she closed the door and pulled her rumbled shirt over her head. The location could have been a lot better, but she was looking forward to a long, hot shower.





****







“About time you came downstairs,” Spike teased when the Slayer finally made an appearance in the kitchen. “Breakfast is getting cold.”



“Excuse me for taking my time,” she shot back as she settled into a chair beside the Formica topped table. “Didn’t know we had any pressing appointments.”



“A little snippy this morning, aren’t we, pet?” he teased placing a plate of food on the table in front of her before taking a seat in the chair on the opposite side of the table. “After I slaved away over a hot stove.”



“I didn’t ask you to make breakfast,” she reminded her companion.



“Couldn’t let you starve,” Spike replied the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk. He seemed to be enjoying their little morning banter. Of course, he was. He had her just where he wanted her. “Wouldn’t make me a very good host, now would it?”



“And the lack of a way out has nothing to do with it,” Buffy muttered taking a quick bite of her French toast. Se was completely forgetting she was supposed to be nice to Spike. The best idea was to keep her mouth busy with something other than talking. “This is good.”



“You sound surprised,” he laughed as she placed another large, syrup drenched bite into her mouth. “Over a hundred years, you do tend to pick up a thing or two, or did you think all I did was sit around plotting the demise of the latest Slayer?”



“Well, you did seem rather single-minded when you arrived in Sunnydale,” she pointed out.



“Yeah, well, I had a rather intriguing subject to keep me occupied,” he replied. Her cheeks burned as he gazed at her over the breakfast table. His compliments had a way of affecting her like Riley’s never had. She had to remind herself that he had been preoccupied with her, because he had wanted to kill her.



“You really didn’t have to bother,” she replied. It was best to change the course of the conversation. It was hard enough to be nice to the vampire under the circumstances, but there was no way she could stay calm with him flirting with her. “I usually just do coffee in the morning.”



“So Dawn told me,” he answered. “You’d think a Slayer would take better care of herself…”



“You talked to Dawn about me?” Her eyes rose from her plate to glare at her companion. Dawn was so going to hear it when she got home. It was bad enough that she had been sneaking around to hang out with Spike like he was some kind of study buddy from school, but knowing that she had sat there in that crypt sharing all the intimate details of her life with the vampire made her furious and embarrassed at the same time. How many times did she have to tell that girl that he was a vampire and therefore dangerous? What was next for her? Sharing tales of her past life as the Key with Glory’s minions over tea and smores?



Spike shrugged like it wasn’t anything to get particularly upset about. Of course, from his side of things, it wasn’t. It wasn’t his dirty secrets being put out on display for his archenemy. “You came up on occasion among other things. The Bit just needed to talk.”



“She has me to talk to and mom,” she snapped, a feeling of guilt mixed into her anger. Riley had left claiming that she was distant, and now her own sister was looking elsewhere for a confidant. “She doesn’t need to discuss our personal life with a demon.”



“Your kid sis sees past the demon.” His fingers gripped the edge of the table tightly. Buffy felt her muscles tighten preparing for the physical confrontation that always followed their discussions. “I know you don’t believe it, but I like your sis, your mom too. They don’t treat me like…”



“Like the soulless monster you are?” She regretted the words the moment they had passed her lips. She had meant to charm her way out of the house, but somehow their conversations always ended up in an argument. “Spike, I… I didn’t…”



“Didn’t mean it?’ he growled rising quickly from the table. His eyes glittered with anger as he glared at the girl sitting on the far side of the table. “You always mean it, Slayer. You just don’t want to see I’ve changed. I am a demon, and I help you and your mates fight my kind, I watch over hour kid sister when she decides to take a stroll after midnight. I go out of my way just to please you, and do I get any appreciation? Even a bloody thank you?”



“Spike, I…” Her mouth moved, but she just couldn’t find the words. He had been a help over the last few months, but she knew now that it was only an attempt to impress her. He did it because he loved her. Riley had let vampires feed off him, because he loved her. She had forgiven him for hurting her, blamed herself for pushing him away. Spike was going out of his way, against his nature, to please her, and all she could do was insult him.



“Save it, Slayer,” Spike snapped as he stalked from the kitchen.



“Well, that went well,” Buffy sighed poking absently at her breakfast with her fork. She didn’t think he’d be pressing the issue of her feelings in the near future, but he hadn’t let her out of the house either. She should have been angry about that fact, but she couldn’t shake the guilty feeling. Where was Xander with a good Spike put down when she needed it? The fork clattered onto the edge of the plate as she pushed her chair over the faded linoleum. She never thought she’d ever do this willingly, but she and Spike needed to talk.





TBC…





You must login (register) to review.