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Part three: The First Card Dealt




Unfortunately, no matter what delightful little games
two people may decide to play with each other, real
life occasionally drops in to visit.

Spike and I had no sooner shook hands and sealed
our bet, then the front door flew open with a bang and
my one teenager wrecking crew came pelting in as
though the hounds of hell were hot on her tail.

This being Sunnydale, that wasn't entirely impossible.

But, as it turned out, it was just Dawn being Dawn.

The minute she saw Spike, she planted herself down
on the sofa and refused to budge. Baby sister is still
lugging a serious torch around for him, no matter how
much she denies it.

And, now that she's getting older, she's figuring out
that she's pretty damn cute when she wants to be. Not
that Spike has any interest in her that way. Dawn is
as much a little sister to him as she is to me.

She knows he's a captive audience, though, and she
totally monopolizes him when he visits. She begs
for help with her homework, asks him to watch movies
with her, coaxes him into telling her stories that our
mother would be horrified to hear, and spoils him rotten
by indulging him in his second biggest weakness...chocolate.

Cookies, candy, cocoa...all of it at once sometimes. It's
enough to put an innocent bystander into a diabetic coma.
I swear, sometimes she gets him so hopped up on sugar
that I actually think I can hear his heart start up.

By the time I bullied the little rat into her pajamas and
sent her to bed, Spike couldn't even sit still anymore.

As I waved goodbye, I couldn't help feeling a little
sorry for any vampires that crossed his path tonight.
His energy level would keep him beating on them for
hours.

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


Real life continued to fuck me over the next day.

For some bizarre reason, I felt the need to do some
house cleaning. That happens every once in a while.
I'll just be sitting around like a lump, and an urge to
start scrubbing floors will hit me.

Not very often...thank God.

So, I cleaned the kitchen, dusted the living room, and
watered all my dying plants. Then, I hauled out the
vacuum cleaner, a heavy beast that's been around since
the dawn of time. I don't know where my mother got
that monster, but it's a bear to push around.

I was halfway through the living room when I heard
it.

Clackity-clank-thunk-shizzz-urrrrr-wheeeeze....


And the beast died at my feet.

I scooped the wretched machine up and laid it out on
the kitchen table. Something inside of me told me I
should wait until Xander could take a look at it for me,
but then my "I'm perfectly capable of handling this my-
self" grown up alter ego accidentally took over.

I lugged the tool kit up from the basement and began
to unscrew, unfasten, unbolt, and just generally fuck up
mother's beloved Hoover.

It didn't take long for me to realize that I didn't know
what the hell I was doing, and when I finally admitted
it, I threw my screwdriver down on the floor and growled,
rather impressively.

"I just love hearing your dulcet tones when I walk into a
room, darling." Spike stepped into the kitchen, avoiding
a booby trap of dropped screws and bolts.

"Do I need this?" I whined.

"Need what? Me? Well, I like to think that you...."

"This!" I yelped, pointing at the dead machinery cluttering
up the kitchen table.

"Do you need a vacuum cleaner?" He pulled out a chair
and sat down, tilting it back on two legs. "Yeah, you're
kind of a slob so you probably do."

I nearly slugged him. "It's broken. It's nothing but...parts!"

"How did it become parts?" he asked.

"I took it apart. To fix it."

"Uh-huh. And when did you learn the fine art of vacuum
cleaner repair?"

Pushing my hair out of my eyes, I glared at him.

"Obviously, I didn't, or it wouldn't be in eighty-six pieces."

He leaned forward and picked up something that was
totally unrecognizable, and as I watched him turn it
over in his hands, I suddenly remembered the bet.

And that we were all alone in the house.

Switching gears, I smoothed my hair down and
licked my lips. "What's that?"

He looked at me and grinned. "What are you asking
ME for?"

Fuck! He is so damn cute when he smiles like that!

"You're a man, aren't you?" I asked, trying to sound
girlyish.

His blue eyes just danced with amusement. "Oh, I am,
am I? Funny, you saying it right at this particular
moment. And, by the way, what does that have to do
with anything?"

Lowering my fanny into the chair next to him, I
shrugged and smiled. "Men are supposed to fix things,
aren't they? Like cars...and toasters...and vacuum cleaners."

He glanced at me, kind of warily. "What's wrong with it?"

"I don't know. It was working all right a little while ago,
but now..no matter how much I play around with it, I
can't make it suck."

His chair came down with a bang. Woo-hoo! Score one
for me! This was going to be as easy as pie.

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


Okay, it's not gonna be as easy as actual pie.

He didn't respond to my play on words, unless you
count him shoving the mess away from him and
telling me it was time to go and play in the local
graveyards a response.

I decided to worry about the mess tomorrow. I had
way better things to do tonight.


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

My jeans were so tight they were almost cutting off
my circulation. But I don't care, cause they look so
great on me. Faded and soft, they hugged every single
curve of my legs and ass, making me look wildly
sexy and totally....

"You look like you're about to split the seat of
those pants, Slayer."

Whistle, crash, boom! Come on back down to earth,
Buffy.

"Thanks a lot," I snipped at him. "But you couldn't be
more wrong." Seeing an opportunity, I took it. "See!"
I said. Bending at the waist and touching my toes, I said
a silent prayer that the denim wouldn't betray me as
I presented him with a nice long look at my ass.

Which I happen to know he finds very attractive.

I bounced back up and gave him a cheeky grin as I
covertly studied his response.

Eyes a little glassy? Check! Lips slightly parted?
Check! Breathing....well, skip that one.

Poor baby. He turned away, but I'm pretty sure I
saw him reach down and make "an adjustment".

Feeling that everything was going my way, I decided
to press my advantage.

"I'm hungry," I informed him. "Let's walk through the
orchard."

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

The orchard wasn't really an actual orchard. It was
more like the garden behind Mrs. Galbraith's house.

She lived on the far side of Restfield, in a big old stone
house that was built sometime around the turn of the
century. WHICH century, I do not know.

Mrs. Galbraith is 84 years old, and she still grows
and cans her own fruits and vegetables. She's an
absolute sweetie pie. She has no children of her own,
and all the kids in town just adore her, because she's
so generous with all the goodies she makes.

The funniest thing is, what with her living next door
to a cemetery, she knows all about our little 'vampire
infestation' in Sunnydale. The things she's seen, as
she puts it, would curl a dead man's toes.

I put in a little extra effort at keeping her end of
Restfield as much of a vamp-free zone as I can. In
return, she allows me to filch anything I want from her
garden.

I avoid the carrots, turnips, and snap beans, but help
myself to the corn, tomatoes, and summer squash.

The fruit trees are where I really score big. She grows
lemons, oranges, apples, plums, peaches, cherries,
and pears. On the ground, we have strawberries,
blackberries, and watermelon.

Between all that, and the beautiful flower gardens that
surround her house, it's the freaking garden of eden.

Just the right spot for a little temptation.

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


"There's a good one. Right there."

"Slayer...there's nothing wrong with these."

I know there's nothing wrong with them. They just
don't suit my purpose.

"I want THAT one," I said eagerly, pointing to a
particularly plump and juicy looking peach. "Boost
me up."

My hero starts to bend over to grab the bottom of
my boot. No, no, no....that won't do at all.

"My shoes are muddy," I told him, sounding as
innocent as I could manage. "Just lift me up like
this."

I turned my back to him and placed his hands on my
waist. "Go ahead."

Those strong hands and arms lift me into the air
as though I weigh nothing more than a child. I grabbed
the peach I wanted, then loosened myself in his grasp
and slithered down his body like a slippery little snake.

AH-HA!

I felt...'it'. Making it's presence known by rubbing against
my rear end. And I definitely heard a little gaspy sort of
sound come out of him.

I'm gonna win! I'm gonna win!

I'd BETTER win.

Because if HE wins....oh, boy....I don't even want to
think about it.




TBC...

Next: The Second Card Played





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