Buffy’s stomach was grumbling loudly as she curled into the fetal position in Cordelia’s massive bed. In fact, she was almost afraid that the rumbling noises were going to wake up her slumbering best friend at one point, but Cordy had only rolled over and continued to snore lightly. Tossing the covers off, Buffy sighed and quietly got out of bed; realizing that the grumblies would never stop unless she did something about it. Clearly, she should have forgone Cordy’s “date etiquette advice” and had more than a salad at dinner. Quickly, she tip toed out of the bedroom and headed downstairs to the kitchen.
In another part of the Chase residence, Spike blankly started at the flashing cursor on the computer screen; growling in aggravation at the small black line that was mocking him silently since he was sporting a serious case of writer’s block. Figuring he needed to take a break from writing his term paper, Spike pushed away from the desk and headed in the direction of the kitchen to scrounge around in the refrigerator.
Rounding the corner into the industrial sized kitchen, Spike came to a screeching halt when his line of vision landed on the very tantalizing view of Miss Summer’s backside. Leaning against the doorframe, he stood quietly and enjoyed the view; although his conscience was screaming that what he was doing was very wrong, that Buffy was merely a child. However, another part of his anatomy located southward from his brain was having other thoughts that included an extremely vivid visual of the lithe blonde sprawled across the kitchen table, writhing passionately beneath him as he did quite naughty things to her lady bits.
Lost in thought, Spike jumped when he heard the refrigerator door shut and Buffy shriek with surprise. Blinking rapidly, as if to clear his vision from his head, Spike moved further into the kitchen and stammered, “Sorry to frighten you, pet. Didn’t know anyone else was still awake.” Stepping over to the wooden island in the center of the dimly lit room, Spike desperately held back the urge to stare directly at Buffy’s heaving chest; nipples hard and pebbled from the coolness of the fridge, pressing into the soft pink material of the camisole she had worn to bed.
Instead, he gazed further down to the contents clutched in her tiny hands; his expression turning into one of disapproval. “You can’t possibly be hungry, kitten. Didn’t that Poofter feed you tonight?”
“Huh…um, well…there was a salad and I wasn’t all that hungry; not like I am now. Luckily, Evie always keeps my favorite here just in case.” Holding up her breakfast triumphantly, Buffy felt like an idiot when Spike chuckled at her. “What?”
“That,” He said with a combination of disgust and amusement as he pointed at the Mountain Dew and Ho-Ho’s clutched in her hands, “is not a proper snack, much less a bleeding meal, kitten.”
“Ew…’bleeding”? Why would I want something bloody to eat?” Buffy questioned, her lips turned down with revulsion. “And I’ve always eaten this for breakfast!”
“’s just an expression…nothing is going to be bloodied if you don’ want it to be, yeah? Now, put away the junk food and take a seat. I’ll make you something fitting.” Moving past the bewildered teen, Spike began pulling out cookware and gathering ingredients. “You eat eggs?”
“”Yep, I eat anything that doesn’t eat me first!” Buffy exclaimed brightly as she took a seat on a barstool. All of the sudden her face blushed furiously and she covered her mouth, “OHMIGOD! That totally sounded gross, didn’t it?”
“Not at all, pet.” Spike replied reassuringly, although failed miserably when he tried to smother a good natured chuckle. He barely had time to register the flying object before he was hit directly in the forehead with a package of snack cakes. “Oi! Wha’ was that for?”
“For being a meanie and making fun of me!” Buffy stuck out her tongue childishly before flashing a blindingly bright smile in Spike’s direction. “So, whatcha cooking and who made you head of the food police, anyway?”
“Not the head of anything, just firmly believe in eating healthy is all.” Deciding on making omelets, Spike set to work chopping onions and mushrooms for the filling as well as strawberries and cantaloupe to serve on the side.
“So, Spike…how’d you and Cordy’s mom meet by the way. All she would say was that you two worked together. Are you an actor or something?” Reaching over, Buffy snatched a strawberry and narrowly avoided being swatted by Spike’s hand.
“Or something, I guess. Not a poncy actor that’s for sure,” Spike paused in order to cock his scarred eyebrow at Buffy menacingly for trying to swipe another strawberry. “I’m a personal trainer, that’s how we met.”
“Well now the whole ‘healthy food’ thing makes sense. But poncy? What does that even mean? Talk normal, ok? Um…so how long have you been living in California? Ooh! And where are you from?”
“What’s with the bloody Spanish Inquisition? And, I’ll have you know that my choice in words is perfectly fine.”
“Dunno, just figured I need to get to know you and all since you’ll be living here. I’m over here like every day and it would be nice to know you, ya know?”
“I think.” Spike replied with a shrug. Turning his back to Buffy, he put the vegetables in the pan to sauté before turning back around. “Let’s see, I moved to LA around nineteen, so that would make it what? Like five years or so? Had the unfortunate experience of following my girlfriend at the time, Cecily, to the States.”
“Do you miss England? That is where you’re from, right?”
“Yeah, pet, lived in Stafford for most of my life. Don’t rightly miss it, really. Parents passed when I was in grade school, can’t say that I miss my Aunt Agatha terribly. Not the nicest bird I’ll have you know, but she was kind enough to take me in after my mum and da’s accident.” Adding the egg mixture to the pan, Spike stirred them briefly before turning the heat down to wait for them to finish cooking.
“Oh, um…sorry about your parents, I didn’t mean to poke around in the difficult stuff.”
“’s all right, pet. Here eat up before it gets cold.” Scooping the omelet onto Buffy’s awaiting plate; Spike added a bowl of cut up fruit before settling down to eat his own meal. “So, how is it?”
“Mmm…that’s like the best thing I have ever had in my mouth!” Buffy exclaimed with a heavenly look on her face. One look at Spike’s face and she was once again flush with embarrassment. “You have so got to stop smirking at me like everything I say is perverted!”
“What!? Can I help it that I find it incredibly arousing when a beautiful woman moans in pleasure at my cooking and then makes suggestive remarks?” Spike innocently asked as he took a bite of eggs.
“You are such a pig!”
“Oink, oink, baby!” Spike replied proudly, before tucking back into his eggs. The rest of the meal was filled with mindless banter about one another’s personal lives and when it ended, Spike felt happier than he had in months, years even if he was truly honest with himself. Once again, his conscience reminded him that he was flirting with danger and yet again, he chose to ignore it.
After placing the last plate into the dishwasher, Spike turned to find Buffy standing beside him; innocently holding out a glass they had forgotten. His mind turned to mush, his heart beat loudly and Spike found it difficult to do a simple task as taking a glass from her hand.
Buffy’s stomach was once again riddled with butterflies as she stood next to Spike and she was quite certain that he could hear her heart beating wildly in her chest. When he reached out to take the glass from her hand, their fingers touched and fire erupted on her skin. Her eyes darted upward and locked on his brilliant blue orbs, surprised to find them filled with desire. Her body trembled when he reached out and touched her face, tracing along the edge of her lips with his thumb. For a moment, Buffy was sure that he was going to kiss her and tried to push away the disappointment when he didn’t.
“You really are, you know.” He whispered, his eyes never straying from hers. When the luminous emerald depths clouded with confusion, Spike clarified, “Beautiful. You really are beautiful.”
Buffy’s mouth opened and shut like a guppy as she stood there, frozen and unsure of how she should respond. “I…” She started, only to be interrupted by a noise in the hallway. Spike’s hand dropped suddenly and he took a step back just as Cordelia padded into the kitchen; bleary-eyed and tousled from sleep.
“What are you guys doing?”
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Once again, I am bowled over by the response you guys have given on this story ! Thank you so much!!!!