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Part ten: Dealer Takes All



Sometime around five a.m., I woke up and found myself
on the couch, a blanket draped over me like a corpse.

Spike was nowhere to be seen, and the first thing my
bloodshot eyes focused on was the damn scotch bottle
that had put me to sleep.

I felt like hammered shit, all sticky and gooey. My hair
was matted down, and my skin was oily and dirty from
smeary, unremoved make up. My mouth felt like I'd been
chewing cotton balls and I was pretty sure my breath could
close the Hellmouth permanently.

Picking up the empty bottle, I eyed the thing with pure
hatred, blaming it for my current predicament. My only
revenge was to drop it in the trash can from eye level. I
was hoping for a nice, satisfying shatter, but all I got was a
hollow thump that reverberated in my head like a gong.

I managed to drag my ass upstairs and into the shower,
no easy task. When I had the water as hot as I could stand
it, I inched under the pounding stream.

For ten minutes, I stood there, getting hit full in the face
by the rushing water and hoping it would clear my fuzzy
head. After I washed my hair, I grabbed a bottle of bath
gel and applied it liberally, scrubbing until my brain functions
kicked back in.

So, where do I go now?

He's wearing me down. Slowly but surely, he's resisting
every trick in my bag, and I don't exactly have an unending
supply. Sooner or later, something's got to give.

Probably, me.

Any minute now the men in the white coats will come to take
me away to the 'Home For Sexually Frustrated Slayers, and
Other Assorted Fruitcakes'.

However...I'm not quite ready to surrender just yet. Another
less than brilliant idea is out there somewhere, and by golly I
WILL find it!

At least I'm beginning to feel a little better. The hot water on
my body is definitely helping, and the soap smells good. Rose
scented. His favorite.

Hmmph! Too bad he isn't here. I MIGHT be persuaded
to let him use it on me. Showers can be very sensuous
when you're sharing them with the right person. There's just
something about wet, slippery skin and scented soap that
makes you want to....

Oh, hello!

Okay, regroup! Subtle seduction hadn't worked. The 'cookie dough'
debacle was proof of that. Slightly more blatant seduction had back-
fired as well...although, to be fair...it had never had it's chance.

Still, a failure is a failure.

As I see it, there's only one direction left to go; Full out...point
blank...no holds barred...no punches pulled...no shadow of a
doubt...come and get it, big boy....teasing. The kind no man, alive
or undead, can resist.

Well, I'm feeling hopeful once again. Hot showers really are
marvelous inventions. You can do a lot of heavy thinking in a
shower and I wouldn't be surprised to find out that most of the
marvels of the modern age were dreamed up in one.

With any luck at all, the next time I'm in this shower, I'll
have company.

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

I'm planning a long night of strenuous activity. I don't want
to sound greedy, but I've been waiting long enough to build up a
lot of anticipation and creative ideas as to what Spike and I
will be doing after I win this bet.

It's amazing the things a person can come up with when
they spend so much time alone in bed NOT sleeping. There
are arrangements, and positions, and scenarios that I can't
blast out of my head with dynamite. I lie on my back and
stare up at the ceiling as though there's a movie screen
permanently attached to it, trying not to go slightly mad.

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


Since I'm plotting a marathon sexual encounter, and being
fully aware that good sex always makes us hungry, I need to
hit the supermarket.

Wandering through the aisles of Safeway, I loaded my
cart with butcher's blood, eggs, bacon, pancake mix, muffins,
and three different kinds of heavily sweetened breakfast
cereal. This time, his sugar rush is going to be working
to MY advantage.

I added milk, orange juice, hot chocolate, and flavored
coffee. A loaf of french bread, strawberry jam, and orange
marmalade went into the basket, and I finished up with
a carton of heavy cream and a bag of miniature marsh-
mellows.

Can't think of another thing I might need, but I have the
market on speed dial and cash on hand to compensate
their fastest delivery boy.

There's no need for a special wardrobe. All I require is a
nice, fluffy bath towel and my pink silk robe, the one that
clings revealingly when I'm damp from the shower.

I did make a brief pit stop at Victoria's Secret for more
scented bath soap and lotion.

**Throw in a loofah and a couple of soft sponges while
you're at it, Victoria. This is going to be a shower to
remember.**

This shower will be the one by which all future showers
are judged for comparison. I'll never take another with-
out remembering this one. It will move the earth...pull
back the tides...blaze like a comet through the...

Okay, I know I sound ridiculous. It's a shower. Hot water,
soap, and...with a little luck...a shower buddy you have
to see to believe.

Just the thought of Spike naked and wet is turning me
on, making my pulse rate gallop at an alarming pace.

His muscles, slippery with soap, just made for my hands
to travel over. His chest, sprinkled with drops of water for
me to lick off. His soap slick hands on my breasts,
sliding down over my hips...down...down...down...

This had better work. If not, I may as well "Get me to a
nunnery....pronto!"

As Shakespeare said....mostly.

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


Tonight is my final assault. I've decided that. No matter
which way it goes, I'm not doing this another day.

This is going to be the last battle. And if I win the battle,
I can't help but win the war.

I've done everything I can in preparation. The groceries are
all tucked away, I've put fresh flowers in the vases, and I
have a nice little fire burning merrily away in the living room.

Soft music is playing on the stereo. The lamp on my bedside
table is on low, and I've diffused the light a bit more by draping
a silk scarf over the lead crystal globe.

Seven weeks ago, when Willow and Tara moved into their own
place, I decided to take over my mom's old room. Dawn's room
was getting too cramped for her, and she's been begging to have
mine for ages.

So one fine afternoon, the two of us paid a visit to the local Home
Depot. We bought paint and wallpaper, and all the supplies
needed to redecorate both rooms.

Then, we nagged Xander into doing all the work for us while we
went shopping for new bedding.

By the time my new bedroom was ready, I'd replaced the rug
and taken down the questionable pieces of art work my mom had
hanging on her walls, replacing them with prints by some of my
favorite artists. I bought new drapes, and a new mattress.

My comforter is an eggshell colored eyelet lacy confection. Very
feminine. I got little matching throw pillows and a dust ruffle, too.

I kept most of the other furniture, except for an ugly armchair mom
used when she mended our torn clothes. I didn't mind having and
using the oak armoire and dresser, or the cheval mirror...but the
armchair had too many memories, and it made me too sad to see
it sitting empty all the time.

One of the best parts of having the largest bedroom is the
attached bath. It's so nice not to have to walk down the hall
wrapped in a towel. leaving wet footprints on the carpet, because
a pesky little sister is pounding on the door screaming for you
to hurry up, cause she has to GOOOO!!

That attached bath is going to come in awfully handy to-
night. Timing is essential. I have to actually be IN the shower
when he gets here, but almost finished so he'll feel obliged to
wait and not get the bright idea to come back later.

I don't want my hair all wet and droopy, so I'll pin it up. Dripping
wet hair isn't my idea of sexy, in bed or out, so I fluffed my bangs
a little and tugged a couple of strands out of my chignon to give
me the look I'm after.

I washed my face and applied a little waterproof mascara and a
smidgen of light pink lip gloss. The steam from the hot water
would flush my cheeks a little, and if it's not enough, I can always
give them a pinch.

I checked the clock for the fiftieth time in the last ten minutes,
then stripped down to my skin and wrapped a towel around
myself to keep from freezing my ass off while I wait.

If he's late tonight, I'm really going to kill him.


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


I left the front door unlocked and when I heard it swing
open, I jumped into the shower and began to lather up.

"Buffy?"

I can't answer yet. He's gotta think I can't hear him, so
he'll come upstairs.

"Yo! Slayer!"

I feel like I'm leaving a trail of breadcrumbs to coax a
squirrel into a trap.

But at least it's a working trap. He's on the stairs.

"Hi, Spike! I'm in the shower!"

"Yeah, I guessed. Shall I come round later, then?"

"NO!" Calm...calm...settle down. "I'm almost done. Just
wait for me."

"Take your time, pet."

Oh, I intend to.

"Spike!"

There was no answer. Maybe he can't hear me. No, that's not
it. Vampire hearing is acute.

"Hey! Spike?!"

"What?"

"Where are you?"

"Halfway down the stairs. Why?"

"Can you come up here for a minute? I need to tell you
something."

"I can hear you from here."

Great. Just peachy.

"What did you say, Spike?"

"I said I can hear you just fine from here."

"Well, I can't hear you hardly at all! Can't you come in
the bedroom?"

There was slight pause. I KNOW what he's thinking.

"All right, then. I'm right by the bedroom door. What do you
want?"

Such a question....

"Look, I still can't hear you over the water running!"

"Well, you said you were nearly done. Can't it wait?"

Yes, I DID say that, didn't I?

I can't stay in here much longer. I told him I was nearly done
and my skin is beginning to get waterlogged, and it's
pretty obvious he ain't coming in.

So, it's on to my contingency plan...and I DO have one.
I never go anywhere without my handy contingency plan.

I turned the water off and wrapped myself in my sexy robe.

"Spike? You still there?"

"Course I'm still here. Wouldn't leave without telling you."

"Could you do me a favor?"

"Sure, babe, what do you need?"

Him and his loaded questions!

"Is my purse on the couch?" I'm still yelling.

"Yeah...." He drawls it out, like he knows what's next.

"I need my hairbrush out of it. Can you bring it up here?"

There's another pause, then he says, "I don't feel right
pawing around in your purse, luv. Don't you have another..."

"Then just bring my purse," I shout, cutting off any
suggestion that I look around in my bathroom drawer for one
of the seven or eight hairbrushes I have there.

I can hear him climbing the stairs. I quickly loosen the
sash of my robe, exposing some cleavage.....

"Here you go, pet."

...and can only stand and stare in disbelief as my purse
comes sailing through my bedroom door and makes a neat landing
smack in the middle of my bed.

Curses...foiled again.

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

Okay. The gloves are coming off. No more 'Miss Nice Slayer'.

I tightened the sash on my robe and marched downstairs to
confront my irritating, smart mouthed, demon lover.




TBC.....
Next...Part 11: And The Winner Is...?

(The next chapter is the final one. The winner
of the bet will be revealed. Also, what happened
when the bet was won.)





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