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Chapter Five ~ I’m Not in Love

“ I’m not in love, so don’t forget it.
It’s just a silly phase I’m going through.
I’d like to see you, but then again –
that doesn’t mean you mean that much to me.
So if I call you, don’t make a fuss.
Don’t tell your friends about the two of us.
I’m not in love, no, no...”

~ 10 CC’s


Eros decided to follow Buffy home to observe her further. The girl had ranted, stomped and stormed the entire way. He couldn’t have been more pleased. Here was the spark he’d been looking for. By Jove, she’d given him more than a spark. Watching that little exchange in the graveyard he’d seen her heartflame burst forth into a bonfire. It was marvelous. He was practically giddy. This was going to be the loveliest, fiery-est, most delicious match he’d made in at least a century. Wouldn’t the Powers be pleased?

Buffy stormed into the house, glad that everyone was asleep and out of her way for once. She barely kept herself from slamming the door in her fury. She whipped off her coat on the way up the stairs, practically stomping into her room to strip. What she needed now was a good shower. She’d get cleaned up and let the hot water relax her. And by the time she was done, she’d have forgotten all about that…that…disgusting, vile pig…

*And if I ever see him again I SWEAR…*

“OoooooH!”

She growled in frustration, and stripped off her shirt viciously. Her clothes came off in a fury, her boots making satisfying angry thuds as they hit the wall. She was too mad to care if anyone woke up at this point. Buffy stalked naked into the bathroom in a perfect rage. Every motion done with extra violence while a monologue of irritation flowed non-stop under her breath.

“ Stupid…blonde…jackass….” Growl. Snarl. Rant.
“Not to mention the way you just insisted on cuddlin’ up to me…” she mocked in a whiny English accent. “ …Couldn’t wait to have your name linked with mi-ine…” She sing-songed nastily.

She cranked the hot water knob brutally, almost taking it off the wall.

*Oops! Gotta calm down a little. Slayer strength plus aggression not good for Buffy’s bathroom.*

She climbed into the shower only slightly calmer. Dumping a gigantic dollop of shampoo into her hand she began scrubbing her long, blonde hair vigorously – muttering all the while.

“ Pig…” Grumble.“ Bastard…” Gripe. “ And who does he think he is anyway?!” She yelled at no one in particular. She rinsed with prejudice, and grabbed the beauty bar out of the dish on the wall. Getting a nice, foamy lather going she proceeded to wash her arms and shoulders forcefully, mind still on Spike. That stupid mouth of his, always running on and on and on…and he smokes too much, and drinks too much. Stupid bleach blonde. Who even does that to their hair anymore? Who does he think he is, MADONNA? She snorted. She’d have to remember to use that one on him later. And his stupid eyes, all big and deep and blue. What business does he have having eyes like that? Looking at her all sexy…

*Hey! No sexy! Spike is not sexy. In any way. Ever. At all. Okay?*

Yes, right – back to ranting…Stupid Spike with his…stupid eyes…

*Yes, that’s better.*

And who was he to just press himself up against her like that? Right, Exactly! Big giant pervert! All strong and loomy and… hard-bodied. With his voice all low… and … and…saying those…things to her. Those stupid …stupid…sexy… things…
Buffy looked down, and found her soapy hands circling her breasts over and over.

“HEY!!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


It was all down hill from there. She washed herself as quickly as possible and flounced out of the shower. She rubbed her skin pinkishly raw with the towel trying to erase any tiny smidgen of sexual feeling for Spike. And what was wrong with her anyway? This was the guy that had kidnapped her friends, threatened her life, mocked her boyfriend not to mention herself, and hey – try the fact that he’d attempted to actually kill her how many times now?

*What the fuck?!*

Buffy didn’t know what the hell was a matter with her, but she was damn well going to get over it. Now. She grabbed her most unsexy sleepwear from the closet; a soft flannel granny gown her mom had given her. This was the nightgown she always wore when she was sick or needed comforting. Tonight it seemed to be both. She sat herself down at her little vanity table and began pulling a comb methodically through her wet hair. Whenever she came to a tangle she yanked extra hard until she pulled through it. It gave her a sadistic sense of satisfaction. When her hair was neat and straight, she threw herself into her bed and shut off the lights.

The only thing that was going to resolve today was tomorrow’s sunrise. Thank God she had a new day to look forward to. It couldn’t possibly be as bad as this one was, no matter what happened. Buffy closed her eyes and took comfort in the small snuggly weight of Mr. Gordo. At least some things were still dependable (unlike her brain). Her anger had finally worn her out enough to surrender to sleep, and she did so gladly. No more icky thoughts of Spike, just sweet oblivion.

Eros chuckled with delight as he rubbed his hands together like an old-fashioned silent film villain. He’d been thrilled with the girls’ reaction, she showed all the proper signs. He’d hardly have to help it along at all. She was obviously attracted to the vampire, and had feelings for him, however deeply they might be buried. Now it was time to see if he couldn’t just bring those feelings to light. He set about his work with undisguised glee.

*Fuel for the fire, My Dear – enjoy!*

Buffy rolled over in her sleep, snuggling into her pillow smiling dreamily.





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