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Chapter 6: Testing the Waters, Parting the Sea.

Desire- to crave or hope for, an intense longing. To need, to ask for, request.


Cont…


“Bloody hell!”



Spike allowed his eyes to close, releasing a frustrated sigh. He pushed himself off the ground with a harsh grunt, standing abruptly. He swayed.

“Hey?” Ulysses instantaneously disappeared from the bar only to materialize just as quickly by the unsteady man’s side. “What did I say? At the rate you’re going you menace, you’re going to be dead or in the hospital inside a week!” He steadied the blond with an arm. “And then where would I be?” whimsy dripped from his voice.

His dizziness abating, Spike jerked away from his guardian, glaring. “M’ apologies mother.”

“You said it, not me. And if you keep it up don’t think I’m past putting you across my knee.” he challenged.

“I’d like to see you try!” he answered.

Ulysses forfeited the fight, throwing his hands up in defeat he changed the subject, “Don’t you have somewhere to be in a little while tiger?”

Spike tensed remembering his date with Buffy. It’s not a date! He corrected himself. Jus’ helping the bird out is all. His palms began to sweat and he shot off towards the bathroom. I’m fucked, I’m fucked, I’m fucked.

The Angel followed after, clearly amused. “Tad nervous there mate?” he mocked.

He never changed coarse, bee lining for the door behind the staircase. He flung it open, straining its hinges, immediately twisting the faucet on. As cool water hit his face he let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding tight within his chest. “I’m fucked.” He finally murmured out loud.

Ulysses came to a stop behind him, leaning gently on the wall he burst with giggles, “Really? Apparently you’ve won more points with Miss Summers than I thought. Moving pretty fast though Spikey, never took you for a harlot?”

His usually alabaster cheeks grew dark as the blood rushed to the surface of his face in embarrassment. “You are the most infuriating bloody-” he paused not knowing what to call him, “thing in the entire bleedin’ universe! I’m through with it ‘right! So you can just beam yourself out o’ here, don’t care where, long as it’s not within ten miles o’ me!”

“Quit being such a baby!”

Spike reeled back a bit, his anger ebbing as he thought back to Buffy’s words earlier. He couldn’t help it, the corner of his mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smile. “Doesn’t suit me does it?” he replied goofily.

Ulysses crossed his arms. “Actually it suits you just fine, you’re a big baby most of the time. I just wanted you to stop.”

He sneered at the devilish Angel through the mirror. Curiosity marred his features. “You have a reflection?” he questioned.

“OoooK,” he drew out, “I’ll bite. Yes I have a reflection Spike,” he spoke like he was addressing a small child, “Now why does that surprise you exactly?”

Spike flashed his best ‘very funny’ face and continued smugly, “thought only I could see you mate?” It was his turn to cross his arms.

“Ahhhh, and the mirror’s a person now is it?” he snorted, “Don’t think it’s gonna be gathering the town folk to come after me with pitch forks and torches, but one can never be too sure.”

“Oi! Jus’ thought that if you’re reflected there in the mirror that- that-,” he was unsure of himself now, “anyone that may come around could see you in it.” He knew how stupid he sounded. “Whatever, was jus’ surprised to see you there- like you were a normal person, don’t have to make a bloody thing ‘bout it.”

Ulysses took pity on him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “No worries. Honest mistake,” Spike eyes narrowed a little at that, “I appear as a normal person to you. Well, minus the wings and teleportation, but you get the drift. You can see my reflection, only you… if someone else were right between us… you’d see us both, I’d see us both and they… they’d only see you.”

Spike thought about this for a moment. “Why always pop off when anyone’s ‘round then?” he wondered.

“Give you privacy I suppose. Also I’d imagine seeing me when no one else can could get quite distracting.” He laughed lightly, “don’t get used to it… I’m not that considerate all the time.”

“Don’t have to convince me mate… I don’t think you’re that considerate any of the time.”

“Hey! You need to work on your gratitude mister!” he said, moving out of the way so they could exit the small room.

“Yeah?” Spike meandered over to the bar again, sitting with his back against it, elbows behind him propping himself up. “Well you need to work on actually helpin’ a bloke out… and then we’ll talk ‘bout gratitude, ‘right.”

Ulysses joined him at the bar facing the other way he sat beside him. “I help!” he whined in response, “I remind you of stuff and—Oh cake!” he interjected, noticing the partially eaten baked good pushed off to the side. He reached for it.

Spike slapped his hand away. “Mine!”

Ulysses turned towards him rubbing his stinging flesh. “Ow! Didn’t your parents teach you to share?”

“Hey, you’re the one who downloaded me with all m’ info and personal life history what-not… it’s your fault if I don’t play nice with others,” he snickered, “think you would have thought ‘bout that when puttin’ humpty dumpty back together again, wouldn’t you?”

“Aren’t you going to be late?” he said, arching a brow at his sassy friend.

He glanced around, lost for a second, then stood, starting towards the door.

“See I’m helping.” He called after him.

Spike paused as he pulled the door open. “Hey Lyss?” he didn’t look back, “don’t touch my cake.” And he was gone.

Ulysses shook his head. “Menace.”

~~

Spike stood directly in front of the door to apartment 13. His nerves getting the best of him he inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to regain his composure. Breathe you git, you’re jus’ helping her out. A friendly gesture is all this is. She’ll come to the door and- his thoughts shifted coarse; I wonder what she’ll be wearing? Maybe she changed? Maybe she has little cover-alls for when she works? The image brought an immediate smile to his face, instantly giving him the courage he needed. No sense making that cute little- he knocked, thing wait another-

His thoughts were cut short, his smile turning rapidly to a confused scowl when a large brunette suddenly stood before him.

Angel glowered down at the smaller man, irritated not to find Buffy awaiting him. “Can I help you?” he bit out.

Spike’s expression became more grave as he replied in a rush, “Who, exactly, are you?”

“Me? You knocked on my door buddy,” he poked a strong finger into the intruder’s chest, “So don’t go-”

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Buffy ran up to them, coming out of nowhere. Grabbing Spike by the shoulder she drew him back and out of Angel’s reach. “Stop that!” she hissed, shooting an almost unperceivable glare towards the larger man. Turning back to the blond she apologized, “Sorry, thought I’d beat you here.”

“What is this Buffy?” Angel interrupted, “and who is this freak!”

She moved forward a little, unconsciously shielding Spike from him. “This,” she spat, “is me showing up to fix your blinds, or did you already forget about this need you have to constantly bother me! And this,” she gestured behind her, “is Spike, my assistant.”

Angel’s eyes grew wide, veins bulging from his forehead. “He is not coming in here! I-”

“Don’t have a choice! Well, unless you want to call Giles tomorrow and tell him that ‘Buffy came to over to do exactly what I asked but she brought someone to help her so now I’m pissed off and blind-less’.” She mimicked his deeper voice through the latter half of her tirade. “I’m sure he’ll be understanding.” She thrust her chin up defiantly.

Spike just stared down at her through all of it in awe. Body aching to reach out and touch the tiny ball of fire in front of him. He was sure, if he had, he would have been burned. He had to stifle a moan.

Angel clenched his jaw. Crossing his arms over his chest like a spoiled child, he finally moved to the side, the gesture all the invitation they were getting.

Buffy smiled then, relishing her win. As she passed into the apartment, tugging Spike along she introduced the two towers of testosterone, “Spike this is Angel, Angel, Spike.”

He couldn’t hold back the rebellious snort that escaped, nor could he stop himself from muttering, “not bloody likely,” in response to the jack-asses all too ironic title.

“What was that?” Angel arched a brow, slamming the door shut.

“Nothin’ mate. Jus’ wondering if that’s a given name is all,” he paused smirking, “or if it’s a nick-name that stuck, due obviously, to your welcoming and cheery disposition.”

Buffy, intercepting before another fight could break out, stepped between the men once more. “His name is Liam, Liam O’Connor.”

Angel stared, taking a long moment to thrust out his hand. “And you are?” he asked, “unless it’s just Spike.”

Spike took his hand, squeezing it a little too hard he answered, “William,” he thought for a moment, “Pratt.”

“Well, now that we’re done with introductions I think it’s best we get to work. We don’t want to impose any more then we have to, to get this done.” She said, heading over to the mess of blinds lying below the large window.

The men shared one last scowl before turning away from one another, both now just as eager to get this over with.

“I’ll be in my room,” Angel sulked, “make sure to shut the door on your way out.” He turned to Spike. “And don’t touch anything you don’t have to,” he snapped before disappearing.

Spike scoffed, shaking his head he made his way over to Buffy. “Real charmer, that one.” Bending down beside her he began mimicking her movements, readying the blinds for re-installation. “Don’t know how you put up with him kitten?”

Buffy’s eyes swelled to the size of saucers as she snapped her head over to stare. “Huh? What? N-No, I don’t- I mean,” she was stammering, “He and I aren’t- we’re not-”

“Easy now pet,” Spike soothed, “only meant that it must be some job havin’ to bend to these people’s every whim jus’ cause you’re the manager.” He smiled when she visibly relaxed. “But glad to hear he’s not your type.” He winked.

There was that feeling again. The one where she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think about anything but the desire rushing through her. She craved him at that moment. Like an addiction not being fed she suddenly itched, ached for a little taste, a fix. She desperately wanted to lunge forward, to crush her mouth to his. That would wipe the smirk off his face.

“You ‘right luv?” his voice broke, the question coming out more breathy then he would have liked, had he had complete control. Unfortunately he didn’t have complete control. Once again he was lost in her. Shivering under her predatory gaze, she appeared as if she wanted to devour him. He licked his lips picturing what it would be like to dive for her, capturing her pink lips in a searing kiss. Bet it would burn so good?

“Huh?” Finally realizing he had asked her something she responded.

“What?” He was ripped back to reality as well. “Oh! I jus’ asked if you were ‘right? Looked a little feverish.” He suddenly remembered something from earlier in the day. “Have you still not eaten pet?”

Buffy regained full control of her body, only to loose a bit of it again, her face tinting from his obvious concern. “No I haven’t, but I’m fine really, it was nothing.” She blushed deeper.

“Not buyin’ it Goldilocks,” he worried, “but I wont make a deal ‘bout it as long as you agree to come out to lunch with me once we’re through here.” He couldn’t believe he had just asked that.

She beamed. “Well I do owe you for helping me out here,” she faked indifference, “so I guess I could make it through a meal.”

“Oi! You’re killin’ m’ ego here pet!” He placed a hand over his heart in mock pain.

She laughed. He died. Or so he thought. He could have died at that moment and been okay with whatever Heaven or Hell awaited him, just as long as he remember that laugh.

“Not that I think your ego really needs it, but I would love to go to lunch with you Spike.” she said, wiping away the tears that had collected in her eyes. “Really.”

“Well then,” he said, standing, “let’s get this done shall we?”

“Eager to get out of here?” she teased.

“You have no idea.”

~



*A/N: Hope you liked... next chapter the spuffy-ness really starts to pop! Please let me know what you think... reviews make the plot bunnies dance and the posting fairy sing! *g**





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