Chapter 3: Following Orders
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Buffy was feeling less frustrated by the time she made it out of the shower. She wasn’t entirely happy with the situation but there was no way she was going to go walking around all day like that. She wouldn’t have survived. It was bad enough she was dreaming about Spike, but to have a dream go that far and then not finish, it was torture.
It turned out that her little bout in the shower didn’t really help; all through her morning classes she found herself distracted and consequently, was reprimanded more than once by her teachers when she didn’t have a clue as to what was going on when they called on her. She was glad when her last class ended at noon and swung by the Espresso Pump to grab a cup of coffee before heading for the Magic Box, where hopefully a large, dusty tome that Giles liked to call a book would occupy her mind.
She entered the shop to see Anya attending to some customers while Giles sat at the table, book in hand.
Buffy plopped down in a chair, catching Giles’ attention.
“Oh, hello Buffy. Did you sleep well last night?”
“What? Huh? I slept fine. Why?” Buffy asked with a frown.
“Well, I figured with this debacle with Glory you weren’t sleeping well. Or perhaps even having prophetic dreams?” he inquired, almost hopefully.
“No. No slayer dreams,” she answered smoothly, even as she began to slightly panic. Could her dreams about Spike have been slayer dreams? That they were…destined to happen? No way. Make that a big no way.
She cut off that line of thought even as she remembered that Spike was due later at her house so they could figure out their ‘marriage’. Her life was turning into a nightmare, that was the only explanation.
Buffy gave her arm a little pinch in hopes of waking herself up and only succeeded in possibly giving herself a bruise. She was very much awake. She gave a little pout before looking back up at Giles, who once again had his nose stuck in a book.
“Have you found anything new?” she asked hopefully.
Giles dragged his eyes up to look at her and heaved a sigh. “Unfortunately, not yet. I do have a set of volumes coming in that I hope will give us more information. Until then, I’m reviewing our previous searches to see if something was overlooked.”
“So nothing really for me to do?”
“I’m afraid not. Unless you want to look over a few books?” Giles offered.
“I think I’ll take a rain check. I’ll just be in the training room.”
Giles waved her off with a knowing smile before resuming his place in his book.
Buffy wasted a few hours in the training room, only stopping every now and then to guzzle down some much needed water. When she looked back up at the clock, she saw it was a little after three and decided to call it quits. Dawn was due home soon and they needed to talk before Spike got there. And she desperately needed a shower too.
She grabbed her stuff and shouted a goodbye to Giles before slipping out the back door and jogging home. She arrived there to find her house exactly the way she had left it that morning, no unwanted guests lingering about. Dropping off her bag in her room, she headed for the bathroom.
It was as she was coming out of the bathroom, wrapped in nothing more than a towel, that she felt the tingles on the back of her neck. Her mind flashed back to her dream from the previous night and her thighs gave a slight tremble.
Suppressing a growl, she tried her luck and called out to the only vampire she knew could possibly be near her house. She was answered with the sound of fists pounding on the front door. Buffy had half a mind to let Spike sit outside, but then she remembered that she needed him for her plan to work.
Forgoing the clothes she wanted to put on, she rushed down the stairs and opened the door. Standing there was an overly warm Spike, smoke rising from his ragged blanket. She stood back to let him in, but he did not move. Silently he looked up at her, staring at her in desperation, begging her to invite him in.
Buffy huffed a sigh. It was now or later. “Come in Spike.”
The barrier keeping Spike out dropped and he rushed past her into the house. She closed the door, keeping the deadly sunlight out.
“Thanks pet,” he said as he pulled the blanket off himself and tossed it on the banister, smoothing back his hair. It always amazed her how much a difference a day could make; his battered face was looking better than it had the last time she’d seen him, the swelling had finally gone down and his bruises were beginning to fade to that sickly yellow color.
Spike must have noticed her state of undress, because he looked up at her, a question forming in his head. His eyes locked with hers and Buffy found herself back in her dream. She couldn’t help but give the tiniest of gasps as a cloud of arousal settled around her, her abdominal muscles tightening in remembrance. She was standing practically naked in from of him. She tried to cover her embarrassment up the only way she knew how.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped at him, her arms clenching around the towel, Spike’s eyes following her actions.
“You said to come by. I’m just followin’ orders,” he answered, his voice a low rumble.
“And since when you do ever do that?”
“Oh, I’m very good at followin’ orders when I want to,” he purred, taking a step closer to her, his tongue curled behind his teeth.
Buffy shook her head, brushing away his comment and the image her mind conjured up. “Whatever. I didn’t think you’d be here until later. You do realize it’s daylight out?” she questioned, death gripping the towel. She so needed clothes, like five minutes ago.
“Why Slayer, I didn’t know you were concerned for my well being. I’m…touched,” Spike drawled, his eyes continuing to rake over her form.
Rather than be disgusted, her body flushed as she was caught his gaze again, his eyes darkening, even flickering with amber. She shut her eyes when her dream came to the fore again, but it did nothing to help. She needed clothes; she needed to get away from him.
“I’m not, concerned that is. And there will be no touching of you, of any kind either,” she rambled. She felt rather than saw Spike take another step closer to her, the lapels of his coat almost brushing her.
“So you were thinking about touching me, were you?”
“In your dreams,” Buffy mumbled.
“No, more like in your dreams love,” Spike shot back as he took a step towards her.
Buffy suddenly found herself pressed against the door, trapped by Spike’s body. The tingling sensation intensified as Spike leaned in closer towards her, his body covering hers, hands braced on the door on either side of her as he inhaled a deep breath along her neck. She should be pushing him away. Why wasn’t she pushing him away? Her brain knew why but her body didn’t.
Goosebumps rose up on her skin as Spike laid the gentlest of kisses against her neck, her heart beating frantically underneath the skin. When he was met with no resistance, he continued to do so, making his way down her neck and along her collarbone.
Buffy reasoned that there really was no logical explanation for what happened next. He was being slow and gentle and all her body wanted was the Spike from her dreams that had taken her hard and fast.
Her hands were tangled in his hair before she could stop herself and she smashed her lips against his, catching his cry of surprise. Spike was still for only a fraction of a second before returning the kiss, one hand spanning across the small of her back while the other cupped the back of her neck.
His kisses were hard and demanding. It was if he was drinking her down, his tongue tracing the curve of her lips before delving in further. The sensation of his cooler tongue against hers made her moan and her hands tightened in his hair, dislodging the curls that were kept in place with gel.
The world slid away as Spike slammed her against the door with his hips. All she could feel was Spike’s mouth on hers and his hands that seemed to be everywhere at once, first sliding down her neck, and then tracing gently down her arms, her chest, playing along the line of the thin towel, fingers dipping down to tease her. His lean hips dug into hers along with the hard bulge that was pressed against her abdomen.
The slow throb that was building inside her grew stronger and she was filled with the need to feel more of his bare skin. Her hands left his hair and trailed down his torso, coming to rest on the waistband of his jeans. Her hands wrapped around his waist and began to pull his shirt up, which didn’t get her too far with his duster in the way.
It was at the same moment that she was tugging at his shirt that she felt the cool air hit her exposed skin as Spike loosed the towel from around her. It was the proverbial splash of cold water.
Buffy immediately froze and pulled back as if burnt, harshly pushing Spike back and knocking him down. She desperately clutched the towel around herself as she stared down at him in horror, even as her body urged her to continue what she had just stopped.
Spike stared back at her, trying to form words but finding it impossible to do so. His chest rose and fell with his harsh breathing and his eyes were dark, never straying from her. He never made a move to get up, just sat there and waited for her to do something.
The threat that was waiting to sprout from her lips was stopped by the sound of footsteps on the front porch. Instead, she gave Spike a death glare before flying past him and up the stairs to the safety of her room, where she closed the door with more force than necessary and locked it.
Her body was shaking as she rested against the door, whether from unfulfilled desire or from anger and embarrassment, she didn’t know, possibly both. Below, she could hear the door open and Dawn greet Spike enthusiastically, her high-pitched chatter growing fainter as she assumed they left the foyer to enter the kitchen.
Buffy took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. She quickly and mechanically got dressed, her thoughts flying a mile a minute. Why had she even let Spike get that close? And why did she let him kiss her? There were too many unanswered questions that she wasn’t sure that she even wanted to know the answer to. All she could do was try her best to pretend it didn’t happen and make sure there were so no repeat performances in the future.
Checking herself once over in the mirror and deciding she looked presentable, she grudgingly unlocked and opened her door, forcing her feet to walk out and down the stairs. Her earlier assumption proved correct, Dawn’s bag was thrown haphazardly against the stairs, and she could hear her sister's distinct chatter coming from the kitchen, punctuated every now and then by a low rumble.
Buffy closed her eyes and steeled herself. She could do this. She was the Slayer. Walking with more confidence than she felt, she made her way towards the kitchen, hovering in the doorway.
Dawn was seated at the counter munching on an apple while Spike was bustling around the kitchen as if he owned it, his body moving with ease and familiarity. His ever present duster was hanging off the back of Dawn’s chair and his shirt seemed to have shrunk a size as it molded against his body as he did the simple task of opening the freezer and shuffling through its contents.
Spike, ever conscious of her presence, looked over and locked eyes with hers before she had an opportunity to back out of the kitchen. He glanced briefly at Dawn, who seemed to become aware of Buffy too, before returning to what he was doing.
“Buffy, Spike’s here! Oh! And he’s making dinner,” Dawn exclaimed happily.
“Really? I didn’t know he knew how to cook,” Buffy replied, cautiously taking a step into the kitchen, wary of how Spike would act, but doing her best to act if nothing was amiss.
“Duh, he knows how to cook. How could you be alive as long as he has been and not know how to cook,” Dawn answered back with a roll of her eyes.
“It’s not that hard to work an oven Bit. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to do that?” Spike grumbled as he placed the frozen lasagna in the warming oven and set the timer.
“I do!” Dawn pouted. “I just always forget to set the timer and then I get distracted.”
“Well, how about you go distract yourself with your schoolwork?” Spike suggested as he began making a salad.
Dawn opened her mouth to argue, but a stern look from Spike had her pouting and walking out with heavy steps.
Buffy looked back after Dawn and was amazed to see that she was indeed grabbing her school bag and sitting down at the table to do her homework even as she mumbled under her breath. She turned back to see Spike pull down a cutting board and a bowl.
“You don’t have to do that,” Buffy said, feeling slightly flustered as Spike continued chopping the vegetables instead of immediately confronting her about what had just happened between them.
“I know,” he answered quietly, not lifting his eyes up at her.
The tension was thick in the room and Buffy broke it with a tiny sigh. The little shouldn’t-have-happened-make out session was going to hang between the two of them until they dealt with it. There was no way they were going to fool Dawn if they kept this up.
“Spike, about earlier…I didn’t…” She broke off, not really sure what to say.
“You didn’t mean to? Yeah, figured as much,” Spike filled in as he gave the salad one last mix before putting the cutting board on top of the bowl and sticking it in the fridge, pausing to put the knife in the sink before rounding on her again. “Way I see it,” he started as he stepped towards her, “Might as well get use to it, ‘specially if we’re going to pretend we’re married, wife.”
With those parting words, he pressed a kiss to her cheek before walking out of the kitchen and into the dining room, a satisfied chuckle trailing after him.
Buffy stood, stunned in place, the ramification of the situation hitting her full force.
She was going to be pretending to be Spike’s wife!
She was still thinking about how they were going to work out the legal situation that she hadn’t given any thought to what the more intimate parts of the deal would be. How far was she really willing to go to keep Dawn? Of course, she’d go to the ends of the earth to protect Dawn, but having to put up with Spike might just be it.
Letting out a weary sigh, she turned towards the dining room and watched for a few moments as Spike sat with Dawn at the table, helping her with her homework. The ease at which they interacted with each other showed that this wasn’t the first time he’d helped her.
She didn’t hear what Spike said but it made Dawn laugh and Buffy couldn’t help but smile. It had been a while since she had heard Dawn laugh like that. It was almost perfect. The only thing missing was…her mom.
Buffy could feel the prickle of tears and turned away from the scene, walking out the back door to sit on the porch steps.
She sat for a long while, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. Her mind floated over many things. About her mom, and the situation with Dawn, and how Spike was going to fit into it all, and how she felt about Spike. The last topic confused her the most.
Spike was a vampire. She had done the vampire thing before, and it didn’t turn out good. But in an odd twist of fate, she’d been maneuvered into marriage with said vamp, not once, but twice now. The world just loved making her life difficult.
She was attracted to Spike. She could admit that to herself and there really was no way around that one, it was just there. She guessed the real question was how far did that attraction go and where would it land her in the end. There was no way of knowing. She just knew that her relationships usually ended badly.
There was that niggling little voice in the back of her mind that almost sounded like her mother that told her that this time could be different but it was drowned out by the voice of experience. It told her not to get more involved with Spike than need be, because to do so would be bad, very bad.
The niggling little voice was also telling her that what Spike said earlier was right. If she and Spike were going to pull off this ploy, she was going to have to get use to him at least marginally touching her and rein in her urge to hit him every time he said something stupid.
After her little stunt earlier, she didn’t think she’d have a problem stomaching Spike touching her, her body seemed to enjoy that, maybe a little too much; no, the problem would be making herself stop from letting it go farther than was platonic, and not getting into situations like the one earlier.
She hated Spike, right? But the truth was she couldn’t fully answer yes.
Her life was really turning into a mess of things, and she hadn’t even touched on the topic of Glory and Dawn being the Key.
One problem at a time Buffy, she told herself.
She finally conceded that if she was stuck in the current situation with Spike, she would at least try to be civil with him, which would probably only work as well as her trying to be normal, but it didn’t hurt to try.
The back door opened and closed. Buffy knew who it was before he even spoke and it was then that she realized the sun had already set. A wry smile played on her lips as he silently took a seat next to her. There was a click of his lighter and a puff of smoke as he exhaled.
She peeked out of the corner of her eye to find him looking straight ahead, but she could see the flicker of his eye glancing over her as well.
“Dawn still working on her homework?” she asked.
“Probably. Either that or she’s standing at the window, spying on us,” Spike answered with a smirk. “She’s getting rather sneaky. Don’t know whose influence we can blame that on,” Spike jibed, tapping her arm lightly with his elbow and Buffy gave a small smile.
“You were right, about me having to get use to it,” Buffy said suddenly, turning to look at him though her eyes were wide. She really hadn’t meant to say that.
“Was I now?” Spike replied with a raised eyebrow, leaning towards her.
“To some degree,” she added quickly as Spike's smirk of triumph lingered on his lips. “If we’re really going to do this for Dawn, there can't be any mistakes. I can’t lose her Spike,” she admitted quietly, staring down at her hands.
“Look Buffy, about last night, when I said…”
“Is that dinner I smell? It smells great,” Buffy rushed out, standing up and practically running into the house before Spike could say more.
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tbc…