“F-fun?” As soon as the quavery word came out of her mouth, Buffy berated herself for it. God, pathetic much? She’d faced vampires, demons, Principal Snyder—and now she was losing it over some half-naked guy.
A half-naked guy with an erection, who just happened to be sitting on her couch.
Okay, so maybe this was worse. Still, as his grin widened, she was berating herself for her girlyness.
He held up the remote. “Yeah. Thought it was midnight telly time? ‘course, midnight was a good hour ago, but I knew you’d be down sooner or later.”
“Oh, you knew, did you?” Buffy retorted, trying to ignore the fact that her brain was still on sensory overload—it couldn’t get over the fact that the male Slayer was lying almost naked on her couch.
“Yeah, sure did.” He shifted so that there would be room for two on the couch. “So what ‘bout it, Goldilocks? Too scared to share space with a Slayer?”
“I am a Slayer,” she snapped angrily.
He smirked. “Right. But ‘m a Slayer too, an’ I think that’s scaring you.”
“What? It is not!” Oh, wonderful. Now her voice was all squeaky. “I’d be glad to watch TV,” she added haughtily, sticking her nose in the air. “Just do us both a favor and make Spike Junior there behave.” She snatched the remote out of his hand and sat down primly on the couch.
Spike watched her discomfort with amusement. “Teenage guy here, pet—m’ dangly bits have a tendency to pop up without me tellin’ ‘em to,” he said, knowing damn good and well that he was lying. Hell, his dangly bits had gotten all excited in the first place because he’d been lying on the couch, imagining what sort of stuff the other Slayer might have in her underwear drawer. Not too bright, that.
Funny how the pajamas she was wearing now were almost as sexy as some Victoria’s Secret togs would’ve been—to him, at least. He didn’t know what it was, but there was something about the girl that really drew him.
Now she was rolling her eyes. Christ, even that was sexy. “Please,” she said derisively. That’s what all guys say, and it is so not true. It’s just an excuse for them to let their thingys out to play.”
Spike couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You call ‘em thingys?”
“Doesn’t everybody?” Buffy asked, then flipped on the TV. “No—no—no—really no—ooh, look, My Fair Lady!”
Spike glanced at the channel she’d stopped on and just barely restrained a groan. All the good stuff that was on in the middle of the night, and she chose Turner Classic Movies? The bint wasn’t right in the head.
But when he glanced over to tell her to change the channel, he found himself unable to speak. She was—well, he didn’t really think there was a word to describe the attention she was giving the telly. She was staring at it like it was the Second Coming and Judgment Day all rolled into one glowly little package.
And really—what kind of tosser would tell her to change the channel when she looked that happy? Spike sure as hell couldn’t.
So Buffy watched My Fair Lady…and on the other side of the couch, Spike watched her.
~*~
Wow. Had she fallen asleep in the graveyard again?
Buffy yawned, stretching a bit. Her pillow seemed to be extremely hard, which lead her to believe it was a headstone…she began to feel around, not bothering to open her eyes. Suddenly she frowned. A headstone with…arms? Oh God! Spike! Nearly naked Spike on my couch—me on nearly naked Spike on my couch!
She almost screamed—but then she opened her eyes and looked up. They were lying lengthwise on the couch, her head having fallen onto Spike’s chest sometime during the night. His face was inches from hers, and she couldn’t believe what she saw.
He looked peaceful. More than peaceful; he looked…happy. He was so tense when he was awake—he looked ready to kill anything, anytime. It was a good attitude for a Slayer. Buffy knew she could looked like that, too. But somehow, seeing him looking so different when he was sleeping had her heart doing a flippy thing in her chest.
And the flippy thing? Not of the good. Because she was the Slayer, so generally, flippiness was discouraged. There was also the tiny fact that Spike happened to be a Slayer, too, so that was doubly bad.
There was also the small, not so insignificant fact that she didn’t like him…
“Buffy?”
Buffy’s eyes widened and she shot up so fast that her entire body actually lost contact with the couch for a second. Her mom was standing just a few feet from the couch, looking at the two Slayers lying on it with an incredulous impression. “Mom!” she blurted out, standing up hurriedly and smoothing her pajamas, praying that Spike would have the sense to keep himself covered with the sheet. “Um…good morning!”
Joyce regarded her beaming daughter skeptically. “Buffy, what in the world—“
“It’s not what it looks like! Really!” Buffy interrupted hastily.
Joyce raised her eyebrows. “It had better not be, honey, because it looks like you two are—“
“Mom! We weren’t doing anything! I came down to watch TV and Spike was here so we watched My Fair Lady and I guess I fell asleep,” she finished sheepishly, hating the smug little smile her mother was currently wearing.
“Well, then, I suppose I don’t have anything to be angry about,” Joyce said, still smiling. “Spike, sweetie? Are you awake?”
Sweetie? Buffy thought incredulously. What, is Spike mom’s son now? Are we supposed to be siblings? If so, the police had better get the handcuffs out, because she was pretty sure incest was illegal in California.
Not that there was going to be any incest-type doings with Spike. Because she didn’t like him that way. Nope, not even the tiniest bit.
Still, she watched with great interest as her mom shook Spike’s shoulder, saying, “Spike, wake up. Spike? You’re supposed to meet Giles and Jenny at the library. Come on, Spike, wake up!”
He remained dead to the world.
Buffy sighed, exasperated, and stomped over to the couch. “Spike!” she yelled. “Wake the hell up!”
“Buffy!” Joyce scolded. “Watch your mouth!”
“What? It’s not like he can hear.” She poked the other Slayer’s chest. “Look—he’s totally dead to the world.”
“Maybe you should shake him,” Joyce suggested. “I don’t have all that Slayer strength. I might not be getting through to him.”
Okay. She really didn’t want to touch Spike. But given that her mom had just seen them doing what could only be called snuggling, Buffy decided that a certain amount of blind obedience might be a good thing.
She reached out and gripped his upper arm—God, he has nice muscles!—and shook him hard. “Oh Spikey,” she sang, grinning in spite of herself. “Wakey wakey!”
“Bloody hell!”
Buffy jumped back quickly, finding herself suddenly looking into a pair of extremely blue eyes. “Um—good morning?” she said lamely.
“Good morning? That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself? Jesus Christ, Slayer, give a man a chance to wake up before you go shakin’ him like the world’s ‘bout to end!”
She should have had a snappy retort ready. Ordinarily, she did. But instead of putting him in his place, she just pointed at Joyce and said, “You’re really hard to wake up.”
His eyes widened almost imperceptibly before he said, “Uh, right. G’morning, Joyce!”
“Good morning, Spike.” Her mother’s voice was extremely dry. “Would you like me to get you two breakfast?”
Okay, this was getting just a little too cozy and domestic for Buffy’s taste. “Actually, we’d better run,” she cut in. “We promised we’d meet Giles and Jenny at the library in an hour.”
“Does it take an hour to get to the library?” Joyce asked. “Gracious, you’d think—“
“Mom!”
Joyce took one look at her daughter’s face and her expression became instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, honey,” she apologized. “I’m just being a mother. Why don’t you run upstairs and take a shower?”
Buffy took the opportunity to dash for the stairs. As she started up them she heard her mom ask Spike, “Will you need a shower, too?”
“Nah, I took one b’fore we left England yesterday,” Spike replied. “’ll be okay.”
“Ew!” Buffy yelled back down the stairs. “I am so not going to be around him if he doesn’t bathe!”
Joyce smiled at the bleached blonde. “I think you’d better take a shower, too.”
“Right.” Spike’s eyes drifted to the stairs. He could hear the shower starting, could picture in his mind Buffy’s naked, golden form, with water running down it…get a hold on yourself, mate. You’re talking to the girl’s mum!
He smiled at Joyce. “Soon ‘s Buffy’s out, I’ll hop on in.”
Joyce smiled at the boy she was rapidly thinking of as her son. “In the meantime, how about some eggs and bacon?”
“Got any Weetabix?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. The store was having a sale on cereal, and I’m afraid I went a bit insane…”
Spike smiled as he followed the chattering Joyce into the kitchen.
~*~
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Author's Chapter Notes:
WOW, I was gone for a long time...as some of you might know, I had serious problems with the parentals about posting here...but I'm back, and I promise I won't be disappearing again =D Thanks to the incredible number of reviews I came back to--I answered them all today. *hugs* to all of you! Also, special thanks to absenteye and jessica_84 over at LiveJournal (my name's changed to selene_90, btw) for their help with my writer's block!