Chapter 6: Truce?
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It ended up that Buffy stood staring at the stove with a grim look on her face while Spike watched her.
“Have no clue what you’re doing, am I right?” Spike asked with a smug look on his face.
Buffy pouted. “Mom and I never really got to that part. She always made the food, I was just the consumer.”
“Simple enough,” Spike said, moving away from the basement door. “We’ll do something easy, something you don’t have a chance of messing up. Then again, you do a good job of doing that regardless.”
“Oh bite me,” Buffy shot back at him.
“Would be my pleasure,” Spike drawled, raising goosebumps on Buffy’s skin as he brushed past her towards the fridge. He returned with eggs in one hand and butter in the other.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Buffy asked as Spike began to heat up some butter in a pan.
“Slayer, it’s cooking. It’s not rocket science.”
“I’ll show you rocket science,” Buffy mumbled.
“Promises, promises. Now come on, at least pretend to pay attention.”
Buffy hopped up on the counter next the stove and watched with apt attention as Spike began breaking eggs into the pan. Her eyes followed the movement of his arms, the muscles there tightening and loosening. She lost concentration of Spike’s cooking as her eyes continued up the smooth curve of his bicep, his shoulders, and then down that small indented line down his torso, finally coming to rest just below his belly button where there was the faintest line of dark hair that disappeared into his jeans.
No Buffy! Don’t be looking at Spike’s… anything. He’s a friend.
Pulling her eyes away, she looked back at the stove to see Spike give the eggs one last stir before shutting it off.
“Done? Already?” she asked. “That was fast.”
“Told you, it’s just eggs,” Spike answered, staring into her eyes, his own letting her know he was aware of what had just happened. He turned away from her and making sure she had a good view, he opened a cupboard and stretched up to grab plates from the upper shelf.
Buffy once again caught herself staring and turned away. Spike needed clothes, like now. She searched her mind for some distraction.
“The courthouse,” she blurted out.
Spike turned and lifted an eyebrow at her while he scooped out the eggs onto two plates, handing her the one with the bigger serving.
“Last night,” she started, “when I was following you. You went to the courthouse. Why?”
“So no accusations? No ‘what evilness were you doing’?” Spike asked back as he sat at the breakfast counter.
“Spike…”
“Bugger. Didn’t know if this loony plan of yours was for real or not. On the off chance that it was legit, I was securing papers,” he explained.
“Papers?”
“Yeah, papers. Legal documents,” he tried again when Buffy stared at him blankly. “Oh, I’ll go fetch ‘em. You eat. I’ll be right back.”
Spike was gone down the basement door before Buffy could tell him that she understood what he was talking about, she just didn’t realize he would have thought about it and tried to get them.
She had just sat down beside the seat that Spike had vacated when the basement door opened again. Spike tossed down a packet of papers in front of her and then made a beeline for the microwave, a bag of blood in his hands.
“I didn’t know we had blood,” Buffy commented.
“Mum kept it down in the freezer for when I stopped by.”
Buffy didn’t object or make a big deal about it; instead she pulled the packet towards her, opening it up. Inside was a certificate of marriage set, unsigned of course, and a few legal documents, mostly for Spike so he could be employed and married.
“So these are for real?” Buffy asked, scrutinizing the papers.
“Real enough,” Spike answered as he returned to the counter, mug of blood in hand. He poured a little bit over his eggs, Buffy scrunching up her nose. “Oh quit it. You can pretend it’s ketchup if it makes you feel better,” Spike added when he noticed her look.
“Right, ketchup,” she agreed and finding that it pretty much did look like ketchup, if she didn’t stare too hard. She cleared her throat and continued on. “How did you get these? I mean, I saw the guy, but how did you?”
“You haven’t noticed how so many strange things happen ‘round here and there’s no consequences? There’s a reason for that. Half the legal system here is demon pet. I know a bloke or two who work there and were willing to negotiate some papers for me,” Spike explained.
“I guess that makes sense, especially after the Mayor,” she mused aloud. “So we just have to sign these? And then we’re…married?”
“More or less. The guy told me to bring him the second copy, for the records. No doubt whoever is after the Nibblet will see if what she said pans out or not.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought about that,” Buffy mumbled with a frown.
“It’s why you always need a partner in crime,” Spike joked as he scooped up some of his bloody eggs.
Buffy turned back to her own eggs, prodding them with her fork. She glanced sideways at Spike before lifting a tiny portion to her mouth and eating it. She had to admit, it was better than anything she would have been able to make. As she started in on them with more enthusiasm, she missed the smile Spike gave her while he shook his head.
The two ate in silence until both of their plates were scraped clean. Buffy sat back, sated, rubbing her stomach as Spike took her plate and put it with his in the sink.
“Mmm…I think you should make breakfast everyday,” Buffy commented.
“Sounds like you’re askin’ me to be here every morning,” Spike challenged as he leaned across the counter towards her.
“No, that would imply I want you here. Which I don’t. I just want the nummies,” Buffy shot back.
“Well, I vaguely recall offering them this morning and being turned down.”
Buffy fought with everything inside her not to blush or even react to his words. Instead, the memory of the morning brought back Spike’s words that he’d last thrown at her before stomping out of her room. When Buffy glanced back at the vampire it seemed that Spike’s mind had followed her thoughts, his face had lost its teasing edge.
“Look Buffy, about this morning, what I said…”
“How about we just forget it?” she interrupted with a forced smile. “You know, truce, start all over?”
Spike, for a moment, wanted to say no. He wanted to make her face it. He knew he had hurt her. He could see the glimmer of pain behind her false veil of cheerfulness; but he could also see that she really didn’t want to talk about it because it hurt her more than she’d like to admit.
“All right then, a truce,” he finally agreed, not wanting to cause her any more pain.
Neither one were lost to the irony that a truce was what had first paired them up and they shared knowing smiles, both remembering Spike knocking out the policeman to save her.
“So, what’s on the list to do today?” Spike asked, coming around to lean against the counter.
Buffy gave him a shining smile and took his hand.
“It’s interesting you should ask…”
His elation that Buffy was willingly holding his hand, smiling at him, had him tuning out whatever she was saying while she dragged him down to the basement, his mind thinking up a lot of fun scenarios. It wasn’t until she let go of his hand that he began to comprehend her words.
“…move the boxes and start clearing the space.”
“Huh?” he asked, tilting his head at her.
Buffy then turned to look at him, hands on her hips, her lips pressed in a thin line. “You weren’t listening, were you?”
Spike could only offer her a guilty look.
“As I was saying,” Buffy began with a glare. “You’re going to need a place here. I figured the basement was the best. It has the least amount of light during the day. But it needs cleaning, and that’s where you come in,” she finished with a bright smile.
“Right, figures I get the dirty work,” Spike mumbled as turned towards the array of boxes.
“It’s not that bad,” Buffy countered with a roll of her eyes.
It wasn’t long though before Buffy was helping Spike move the boxes, easily working together. For once, it was nice to be herself and not have to worry about if she was doing too much. She remembered when they had helped Xander move that she had to watch how much she was doing so she didn’t make Riley feel bad. It wasn’t a good thing to be able to out lift your boyfriend, and he sulked at her that afternoon. But with Spike, she could do what she wanted and it didn’t matter, because she knew Spike could care less. He knew she was strong and let her do her own thing.
The buzz of the dryer had her turning back towards the laundry she had started earlier, moving the different loads and then began folding the clean one.
Buffy paused from her task for a moment, looking over at Spike to see how he was doing. The sight she face stopped her breath short. Spike was bent over, picking up one of the heavier boxes to move, the muscles in his back rippling with his effort. She was transfixed as she watched him, the hard lines of his bare torso sharpening, tightening as he lifted the boxes. As he finally positioned the box the way he wanted, Spike wiped his dusty hands on the seat of his plastered on jeans and then pushed back the curls from his forehead, Buffy watching his movements from start to finish.
It was then that Spike felt the weight of her stare and turned towards Buffy to see her looking at him, her eyes slightly glazed over. He smirked before starting a slow swagger in her direction, his cock already hardening beneath the confines of his jeans that rode low on his hips.
“You still ogling my goodies Slayer?” Spike asked, curling his tongue at her.
“N-n-no,” Buffy stammered, her cheeks beginning to redden. “I’m just taking a break, to uh, check your progress.”
She spun back around quickly, trying with all her concentration to get herself under control. She heard Spike stomp back over at the boxes, apparently not happy with her dismissal, his handling of the boxes not as gentle as before.
Oh my god, oh my god, Buffy repeated over and over in her head.
Why had she even brought up Spike moving into the house? Because it would be easier with him around? Because he made things simpler? Because she wanted him around? She didn’t even want to think about that right now. She couldn’t even keep her eyes to herself, for god’s sake! It was even worse when her fingers wanted to make with the grabby.
Spike is my friend, there will be no more ogling of Spike.
She could do this. Spike was in her life, he was her friend and that was it. He was a vampire and she couldn’t even think about being with him. They were doing this for Dawn and that was the end it, nothing more. There was no need to get caught up in something that could never happen. Not that she wanted it to happen. Despite the continuing protests of that voice in the back if her head, which for some reason sounded like her mother, that things with Spike would be different, she couldn’t let herself believe it. It wasn’t Spike’s fault that she reacted the way she did. She’d just have to control herself, just like he did.
“You uh, want some help?” Buffy offered as she folded the last of the clean clothes. See, she could be Spike’s friend. She just wished the dryer would hurry up so she could get some clothes on him, because the bare chestness? So not helping.
“If you want. Don’t make a difference to me,” Spike answered without looking back.
His coldness made her not want to help but as he took a peek over his shoulder at her to see what she would do, it helped make her decision for her. She had just reached his side when his soft snickering had her looking over at him.
“What’s funny?” she asked, hands on her hips.
“Nothing, just thought you looked right fetching with all the cobwebs,” Spike teased.
“Not like you’re looking any better!” Buffy shot back, making Spike’s hands fly to his hair.
“Yeah? Well, at least I don’t got a spider making a nest in my hair,” he commented, watching with growing amusement as a look of panic set on Buffy’s face.
“A spider?!? Get it off! Get it off!” she yelled, flailing her arms by her sides.
“I will, just hold still,” Spike replied, now laughing openly.
Buffy did her best to hold still as Spike plucked the spider from her hair, tossing it away, all the while laughing at her.
“It’s not funny!” she protested, her fingers combing her hair as she pouted.
“Bloody right it was! The big Slayer all afraid of an itty bitty spider.”
“I hate spiders. They’re creepy,” she said with a shiver as Spike continued to laugh at her. “Jerk…”
“Right, I’m the jerk, and here I was doing the honorable thing and saving your from the spider!”
“Fine, so you’re not a jerk…all the time.”
“Do my ears deceive me? Did the Slayer really admit I’m not all horrible?” Spike asked, his tone sarcastic.
“You watch it buddy, or you’re going to get what’s coming to you,” Buffy warned but couldn’t stop the grin on her face.
“See how nice it is when you’re not being a bitch?” Spike asked.
“Hey!” Buffy began to argue, but Spike simply stared at her. “All right, so I admit, I can be mean sometimes, but, but sometimes you deserve it,” she added.
“That I do. I can be a bastard sometimes, I know it. Like this morning, you didn’t deserve that,” Spike said, changing the entire mood.
“And you didn’t either,” Buffy found herself saying. “We both said bad things. And we both agreed to just forget about it. We made a truce.”
“Yeah, and how long is that goin’ to last?” he asked, taking a step closer as he brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear.
Buffy felt her mouth go dry as Spike’s hand trailed down her jaw, the feel of his cooler hand on her heated skin sending tendrils of pleasure through her. He trailed a single finger down the column on her neck, circling it around and starting up the other side.
Spike could feel her heart thudding underneath his fingertip, feeling it as it sped up under his caress. Her eyes were impossibly wide and slightly unfocused. He cupped his hand around her cheek, his thumb softly brushing across her lips, her breath hot against his skin. It wasn’t just her breath that was hot, it was all of her. As he took another small step forward, he could feel the heat radiating off of her.
She was like a deer caught in headlights as Spike slowly lowered his head towards her, her eyes fluttering shut as his mouth softly touch hers. Her internal cries that she shouldn’t be doing this were quieted as Spike captured her mouth again, increasing the pressure but still keeping the kiss light, stealing her breath away.
In sharp contrast to their previous kisses, these were soft and slow. It was as if Spike was taking his time to relearn every curve of her mouth, how many noises he could draw out of her. Kissing Spike was a lot like drowning in a sense. Everything else faded away until there was just one sensation, and in this case, it was the feel of his lips against her, his tongue dueling with hers, his moans echoing hers; there was nothing else that matter except that he kept kissing her, that he kept the rush of pleasure flowing through her.
It was as he released her to let her breathe that the world came crashing back to her and she fought the hold he had on her body.
“Spike, stop, please, you have to…” Buffy tried to say.
“Shh…I know you want this,” Spike whispered back as he tried, but failed, to keep her in his arms. “I know you want me.”
Buffy’s struggles increased until a well placed shove had Spike flying back into one of the boxes. She fought to gain control of her breathing. How had things gotten so far? It was like as soon as Spike laid a finger on her, her self-control, along with logic, flew out the window. This couldn’t happen, ever.
“You’re wrong Spike. I never want you,” she all but growled out. Her anger at her lack of self-control making her hands curl into fists at her side.
“Right,” he drawled with a snort, “You don’t want me, you just NEED me here, so I can cook the food and get Nibblet to do her homework and all the things you can’t do or don’t want to do. And all without anything in return. Honestly, why in the bloody hell would you ask me to be here when it’s so obvious you don’t want me here? That you can’t stand me to be here? That you always push me away?”
“Because I don’t trust myself!” she yelled back, her eyes wide at her admission.
Spike fell silent at that.
She didn’t give him a chance to say anything and ran up the stairs as quickly as she could, Spike right behind her.
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tbc…