“So, I can clear out some space in the closet for your stuff.”
Buffy looked up at him. He was leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, index fingers hanging loosely in the belt loops of his faded blue jeans. Hello, Mr. Hottie.
“Uh, okay,” she replied, not able to tear her gaze away from him.
The picture Giles had showed her of him looked so far removed from the man who was standing in front of her. Now that she was a little older, she could recognize the differences between boy and man. William had been cute with a youthful exuberance that he wore for everyone to see. But Spike was handsome and dangerous, the years’ wisdom clearly showing in his face. It was almost hard to believe they were the same person.
She knew that she’d always been kinda attracted to him, first from the photo then when she had met him at the funeral. But now that ‘kinda’ was a closer to a ‘oh, hell yeah’.
Despite all the arguing, she could feel herself being drawn into the wonder that was Spike. And it scared her to death.
“I guess I’ll continue takin’ the couch since I only have the one bed,” he told her, moving to sit next to her on said couch.
Her breathing hitched. “Um, well, I don’t want to put you out or anything. I can take the couch. I mean, it is your apartment and your bed and you’ve been so good to me by letting me stay and all.” Babbling! You’re babbling. Knock it off.
“Nah, that’s okay, pet. I don’t mind the couch. You take the bed.” He grinned at her. “Besides, you girlies need your privacy and all that rot.”
She blushed bright crimson and turned away from him. Why did he have to be so damn…charming? She was already developing a huge crush on him and now he had to go and make cute little comments like that. Big trouble. She was in big trouble.
Bloody well shoot me right now.
He was twenty-seven years old and was lusting after a sixteen- almost seventeen- year old girl. But how could he not? Buffy was absolutely adorable with her innocent blushing and shy smiles. She was so much different from the women he was constantly surrounded by that he was completely fascinated by her.
Of course, she’s different. She’s just a child, you pillock!
Feeling like a dirty old man, he jumped up from the couch where he had been sitting far too close to her and hurriedly made his way to the bedroom. “So, I’ll just clean out that closest now. Make yourself at home. Watch some telly, if you’d like,” he said as he left the room.
“Get a bloody grip,” he mumbled to himself once he was safely out of ear’s reach.
Deciding it was best to take his mind of the lovely little blond nymph that was capturing more than just his attention; he started looking through his closet, seeing what he could rearrange to make room for her stuff.
It was going to be uncomfortable having her there. Not only because he was having to constantly fight his growing attraction to her, but because the space in his apartment was severely limited. He was used to living alone and he knew it wasn’t going to be the easiest transition to make.
He had purposely stayed in his one bedroom apartment because there was honestly no room for anyone else. No one-night stands conveniently needing a place to crash for a few days that would end up being a few months. No down-on-their-luck acquaintances from work rooming with him. No reason to add to the very exclusive group of friends he had.
And now here he was with Buffy. Opening his home to her, his friendship, and if she didn’t stop looking so damn cute, his bed.
Uh-uh-uh. You’re not supposed t’ be thinkin’ like that, mate.
The only hope for him was to stop thinking of her a gorgeous young woman and more like family. Yeah, his very nice teenaged cousin…er, uncle’s stepdaughter…whom he was only related to by marriage which no longer existed. Okay, that wasn’t going to work.
“She came t’ you for help an’ all you can do is think about how kissable her lips would be. You are a bloody stupid wanker, Spike Pratt,” he told himself, throwing a pile of shirts on the bed.
She had yet to tell him why she was there too. During their argument that morning, he had decided to let the subject drop but he had not forgotten that it was still very much unresolved. Depending on why she had run away there could be serious problems with their current living arrangement.
If she was on the run from the law he wouldn’t be able to stop them if she was caught. Not that he would turn her in, ever, but there was only so long you could hide from the cops before they finally caught up with you.
Fortunately, he didn’t think she had been involved in anything illegal and that meant she’d run for another reason. She didn’t seem like the type to just run away without a good cause to.
The more he thought about it the more he came to believe it had something to with her father. Rupert hadn’t said much about Joyce’s first husband only that their divorce had been quite ugly. Now what that meant exactly, Spike was unsure. ‘Ugly’ could mean any number of things. Long litigation, custody battles, and numerous other complications could all be called ‘ugly’.
Buffy was scared of someone; she’d said so this morning with her accidental slip of him and he. If it was her father, there were only so many things he could have been guilty of and most of them made Spike’s stomach churn.
He had grown up with an abusive father and knew how much damage a parent could inflict on their child if they saw fit to. Thankfully, when he had been around ten years old, Rupert saw that Alistair Pratt never laid another hand on William or his mother. Of course, that wasn’t the last time Spike had seen the bastard but that was another story.
The promise he had made to his uncle was still ringing in his ears. Spike owed everything to Rupert Giles and if was the last thing he did, he would see to it that whatever Buffy was running from would never catch her.
Buffy flicked off the television. There was nothing on in the afternoon during the weekdays and she really had more interest in spending time with Spike anyway.
He’d been in his room for almost an hour now. How long did it take to move some clothes around?
“Spike?” She called through the closed door.
“Uh, yeah, pet?” His muffled voice replied.
She turned the door knob and stuck her head inside. Fighting the urge to laugh, she watched as he waded through a mountain of clothes to get back to the closet.
“It looks like a tornado hit in here. I thought you were just going to make a little room not dump out your entire closet,” she said as she entered the room, cautiously stepping over random shoes and other accessories.
He gave her a lopsided smile. “Think I’m a bit over my head with this now. How ’bout helpin’ a bloke out and givin’ me a hand with putting this all away.”
“What do I get if I say yes?”
She watched as he froze, and then looked up at her with an expression she couldn’t read. Damn him and his mysterious looks!
“I don’t know, luv. What do ya want?” He drawled out, his tongue curling up behind his front teeth.
“How about a pint of Chunky Monkey and we’ll have a deal,” she replied.
All of the sudden he was frowning. Uh, what did she do now?
“Chunky Monkey not one of your favorites, I take it.”
His eyebrow quirked up as his expression changed from unhappy to questioning. “Huh?”
Moving to sit on the one uncluttered corner of the huge king-sized bed, she picked up a purple silk shirt and played with the collar. “Well, you were all frowny when I mentioned Chunky Monkey, I figured you didn’t like it or something.”
“Oh.” His expression went back to the frown before finally settling on an easy smile. “I jus’ must have spaced out there for a mo. Sorry.”
Funny, he hadn’t looked like he’d spaced out. In fact, she could practically see the wheels that were turning inside his head. He just hadn’t wanted to say what he was thinking.
“So was that a yes to the ice cream or will I be leaving you to clean up this mess by yourself?” Perhaps it was better that she didn’t know what he was thinking. She liked to pretend that he was thinking something naughty about her, but she knew that wasn’t true. And she decided that she preferred the imaginary thoughts to whatever he was really thinking about.
“Oi! I knew you’d turn on me the minute I couldn’t give you what you really wanted. Women and their bleedin’ chocolate fixes,” he said with a grin.
She folded her arms over her chest and pouted. “There’s not that much chocolate in it. It’s mostly just banana ice cream.”
“Eww. Banana ice cream? What kind of weirdo thought that one up?”
“Uh, hello? Ben and Jerry.”
“Oh, Ben and Jerry. Geniuses of the Twentieth Century,” he told her sarcastically.
“Hey! Do not knock Ben and Jerry. They are a girl’s best friend.”
His brow furrowed as he leaned his back against the closet door. “I thought diamonds were a girl’s best friend.”
“Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “Money can’t buy you the things that really matter in life. I’d take ice cream over diamonds any day of the week.”
The silence stretched between them and Buffy wondered for the second time in twenty minutes what she’d said wrong. He was looking at the floor, his foot toying with an old black Doc Marten.
“Buffy, I think you should tell me what happened.”
“I-” she paused to gain her voice, “-I can’t.”
He started to protest but she stopped him with a wave of her hand.
“I can’t tell you right now. I’m just not ready. I’ve held it in for so long that I’m not sure where to start or even how to put into words. Please, Spike, I just need some more time. I’m not going to lie to you anymore, but I just can’t talk about it yet.”
Nodding, he glanced over at her and smiled. “Okay. I won’ push. But I need you t’ know that I’ll do everything I can t’ keep you safe from him and it would be a whole lot easier t’ do so if I knew exactly what I was dealing with here.”
One thing she had figured out about Spike was that he was brilliant at putting two and two together. It was unspoken, but Buffy knew that Spike was aware of just who ‘him’ was. She didn’t know how he knew, but he did. She hadn’t decided yet whether that was a good or bad thing, though.
“So,” he said as he slapped his hands together, “Chunky Monkey is all you have to bargain with then? ‘Cause I think I’m about t’ make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
Madame Jae says: Ah, yes. Our fair hero is having a difficult time keeping his lusty thoughts at bay. I foresee…many restless nights and cold showers in your future. Mwahahaha!!!