Her heart racing and mind spinning, Buffy tried to process what Spike had said. ‘He knows what he’d like as compensation.’ she thought. ‘What does he want? Is it a kiss?’
Ever since she’d taken a really good look at Spike’s lips earlier that day, Buffy had been wondering what it would feel like to have them pressed against hers. Prone on his chest, her face just inches from his, it was difficult not to think about it. If that was what he wanted, she’d have a hard time saying no. But what if it wasn't a kiss that he wanted, then what? ‘Not a bite,’ she thought. 'He would never ask me to let him bite me, would he?'
That’s when Buffy remembered there was still a long, hard shape pressing into her thigh and another worry took form. ‘Oh no!' she thought. ‘He can’t possible want that…’
Spike broke into her thoughts. “Let’s get up, love,” he suggested, just the slightest smile on his lips. “Then I’ll tell you what it is I want and you can decide if you’re willing to meet my price.”
With almost no effort, Spike lifted himself gracefully from the ground, bringing Buffy with him. Making a show of brushing bits of grass from his duster, Spike made sure to arrange it carefully over the front of his jeans. Buffy looked away demurely, her blush darkening a bit. Despite missing the warmth and pressure of Buffy’s body on his, Spike was relieved that they were standing again. He couldn’t think straight with the combination of her scent, now laced heavily with traces of arousal, and the sudden increase in her heart rate following his declaration. He was afraid that another second lying under her would prove too much for his demon. He could usually maintain control, balancing his evil and impulsive vampire nature with doses of the humanity he had somehow retained, but he couldn’t be sure of himself with his nostrils full of Buffy’s unique aroma and his ears pounding with the sound of her blood pulsing just beneath the surface of her skin. The fact that her body was clearly responding to his while her demeanor remained diffident only intensified the allure.
Spike looked directly into Buffy’s eyes, “Ready then?” he asked.
He heard Buffy’s heart rate jump slightly as she returned his gaze with considerably more calm than she was feeling. “Sure.”
“I want you to let me call you Buffy,” he stated, his low voice betraying none of the cautious hope embodied by his request.
Buffy couldn’t conceal her surprise. “What? Is that it, that’s what you want?”
“Yeah, I want to call you Buffy,” he repeated, encouraged by the fact that her fist had yet to connect with his nose.
“But I never said you couldn’t…” Buffy began to protest.
“Well, perhaps not in so many words,” Spike injected before she could continue. “But today, at the library, when I used your given name, you made an issue of it. You do remember that, don’t you?”
Buffy looked away from Spike for a moment as she experienced an odd combination of confusion, disappointment, and even a little hurt. Spike watched all of this play across her face as he waited for her reply.
She finally met his eyes again. “Yeah, I guess I did. It surprised me is all. You’ve always called me Slayer. But sure…I mean, why not? After all, I call you Spike don’t I, not ‘William the Bloody, Master Vampire’?” Pushing the uncomfortable mix of emotions out of her mind, Buffy managed to finish her statement with a matter-of-fact tone that might have fooled most people. Spike wasn’t fooled, but he was determined to play along. He was convinced that if he could just manage to behave for a bit longer he could get to see where this very unnatural rapport between a vampire slayer and a master vampire might lead.
“Alright then, I guess we’ve come to terms,” Spike said, smiling. “So we can keep our appointment for tomorrow.”
Buffy nodded slowly, clearly distracted. Spike cocked his head to one side and leveled her with narrowed eyes.
“What’s up, love…I mean, Buffy? You look…I don’t know…perplexed?”
“I guess I’m just a little surprised that that’s all you want,” she admitted, her eyes darting away as she spoke. “I thought it would be something, you know, more.”
Internally Buffy's reaction had been quite a bit stronger than mere surprise; the unexpected request had thrown her totally off balance. Now she could practically kick herself for giving Spike an opening to ask her what she had thought he might ask of her.
While he was fully aware that Buffy was attempting to veil her true feelings, Spike was ready to move on, he appeared thoughtful for a moment, as he seemed to weigh his options. When he finally replied, his voice sounded different. Buffy immediately recognized the more refined tone and syntax he’d used that afternoon when reading the poem. “Buffy,” he said, “I can assure you that while I may indeed want more, I am asking only for the privilege of using your given name. I hope you understand I intend to call you Buffy even when there are others who might make note of it. I hope you won’t find it necessary to renege on our agreement.”
It was true that Buffy, totally unprepared for the Spike’s request, hadn’t considered what her friends might think if he called her by name. But hearing his reply she really didn’t care, this special voice of his was proving to be a seductive ambush and she could only stare at him in stunned silence.
“Buffy, are you all right?” he asked, snapping her back to attention.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she laughed nervously. “And yes, of course, I understand you’ll call me Buffy when my friends are around. I’m okay with that and I promise not to tell them why. Your generosity will be our little secret.”
Spike smiled, bobbing his head and shoulders in a small bow. “Then I guess it’s time for you to toddle on home isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Buffy replied slowly, regarding him with curiosity, “I think I’m all done slaying for the night.”
“Do you mind if I tag along?”
Buffy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “What, you mean you want to walk me home?”
“If you don’t mind, yes I would.” Spike replied, trying to sound as if offering to escort the Vampire Slayer to her home was the most natural thing a Master Vampire could do.
‘Ha!’ Buffy thought, feeling both relief and vindication. ‘He’s does want something else!’ But she did her best to mask her renewed enthusiasm with a bland response.
“Oh, sure, I guess that would be okay.”
“Well, then,” he said, offering his arm, “we should be off then.”
Speechless again at the formality of Spike’s pose, Buffy nonetheless slipped her hand around his arm, placing it lightly on his sleeve. Thus linked, the two blonds walked out of the cemetery.
Tbc…