Buffy sat on the edge of her bed, eyes fixed on the door. Since her return, she immediately stripped from her leathers, redressed in Spike’s battered tee, which he had gratefully thrown to her side, and had been holding a silent vigil awaiting his return. Before her mind could rehash all the unexpected thoughts and feelings for him, the door opened. With a slight shove from the guards, he entered. Buffy expelled a sigh of relief she wasn’t aware she’d been holding. With his trademark smirk, his gaze met hers.
“Hey Slayer, seems like we were both victorious tonight, bully for us.” Plopping down on his bed, her eyes traveled over his body. Noting several long thin whip marks marring his pale skin, she spoke.
“Spike, you look literally whipped, who was your opponent tonight, Indiana Jones?”
“Don’t think a fancy fedora would have fit the bulbous head of the nasty bugger I fought. It was some-sort of squid demon, was all head and arms. Didn’t know if I should’ve dipped him in wasabi or killed him. Come to think of it, I’ve got a bit of him in my pocket, care for a bite?” Following his words, Spike leaned back to slide his hand into his front pocket.
“Eww…gross Spike!”
“What? You’re from California. Sushi is mainstream cuisine!”
“That may be, but I doubt they use raw demon, or any demons, for that matter, in the rolls.” Buffy’s face blanched slightly before she continued. “Thanks Spike, now I will never be able to eat sushi again, for fear it might be packed with demon-y non-goodness.”
“Hey that could be a sushi place’s new slogan. Now introducing demon…the other, other white meat,” Spike scoffed while he removed his boots.
Hearing his, Buffy’s mind flashed to Wally. The thump of his boots hitting the floor, reminded her of the sickening sound of his head hitting the wall. His life-less body sliding—
“Slayer, you ok?” Blinking quickly, Buffy left her memories, her eyes refocusing on Spike.
“Yeah, I’m…yeah.” The humor that twinkled in his eyes disappeared, replaced by concern, as his voice held the same quality.
“Slayer…Buffy, if you need to talk, I know I’m a poor substitute for your mum and the Scoobies, but I’ll listen.”
A grateful smile ghosted her lips. “Thanks Spike. I…I really appreciate that.”
Following her words, a comfortable silence surrounded them. Buffy began mindlessly plucking at the hem of Spike’s tee, while he shook out his sheet and began to make his bed. Watching him engage in such a domestic activity, such a human activity, made her mind ponder how truly evil demons are.
”Maybe being a demon doesn’t automatically equal evil. They have lives and personalities that could go much deeper than their choices in food, or whether they have fur or scales. Maybe they could even—“
“Quarter for your thoughts?” Spike’s deep timber broke through Buffy’s inner dialogue.
“I thought it was a penny?”
“Well, as hard as you appeared to be concentrating, thought I needed to up the ante.”
“Just thinking—“
“Oh-oh, a dangerous thing that. A Slayer with her own thoughts, that’s what the council gave you Watchers for.”
“Very funny bleached boy, you’re lucky I don’t possess a cattle prod, ‘cause I would have it set on permanent zap mode for you. Not like I would do any damage to your higher-level thought process. Anyway, I was thinking about demons.”
“Now Slayer, why are you trying to make me jealous? I’m the only demon you should be thinking about.” Buffy was instantly drawn to Spike’s protruding lower lip, which followed his pouty-sounding words. Before her mind could drag her back to the earlier shower scene, she spoke.
“All these demons used in these matches, where are these guys getting them from?”
“Resourceful bastards they are. Well, I guess if you’ve got a big-time law firm, and the government supplying you, your stock would be—“
“—limitless. But, I don’t think they’re getting all their demons from the Initiative, half of them, I’ve never seen or heard of before.”
“The Hellmouth doesn’t attract all beasties, Slayer. Some are peaceful, staying far away from the death and destruction. Just think of good ol’ Sunnydale as Vegas for demons. You wouldn’t catch a devout churchgoer stepping in the city of sin, would’ya? In addition, I think this operation only chooses the best of the best and with the posh treatment we’re receiving and not thrown in with the populace. I figure we’re their prized fighters.” Buffy’s face scrunched with disgust from his words since they echoed the commentator’s early ones.
“Yeah, well I don’t feel very prize-y.”
Following a casual shoulder shrug, Spike commented. “Regardless, you’re still a fighter and one of the best. Well, besides yours truly. Speaking of which, we both need a bit of kip, got wounds that need healin’, night Slayer.”
With a slight nod, he slid under his sheet and turned towards the wall. Following his lead, Buffy slid under hers. “Goodnight, Spike.” Once situated, Buffy clapped her hands to trigger the lights to shut off. As the silence and darkness wrapped around them, many hours passed before sleep came.
The following morning started the same as the others. The guards waking them, nasty daily rations, Spike begrudgingly turning so Buffy could dress without an audience. The pair sat on their beds, mindlessly staring into space, before Spike’s words broke the silence.
“Slayer, you wanna play a game?”
**** ****
Giles’ Apartment
Despondently Willow hung up the phone. With a forlorn shake of her head, her eyes began to mist with tears.
“Giles, two days, she’s been gone. Two days and nothing, locator spells aren’t working, Angel won’t call back, and nobody knows anything! It’s like she just, just disappeared! On top of that, I had to lie to Mrs. Summers, again! Next time…next time—“
“Willow, I assure you, there will not be a next time. We will find Buffy.”
“Giles, you're talking to the eternal optimist, but I can’t help but feeling—“
Xander and Anya’s hurried entrance into Giles’ apartment broke Willow from continuing. Slightly out of breath, Xander addressed them.
“Well, we went to Willie’s and after a little persuasion—“
“Yes, money is a great persuader,” Anya added with certainty.
Slightly deflated, Xander’s gaze moved to his girlfriend. “Thanks An, I was trying to go for ‘I’m a bad ass’, ya know, The Enforcer look, but bringing up the money that we had to bribe him with, well kinda killed the mood.”
Wearily, Giles extracted his glasses, pinching the exposed bridge of his nose tightly. With a slow sigh, he released the bridge and griped.
“Xander please, your presentation or how you gathered information is not important, it’s the information itself in regard to finding Buffy is what is imperative—“
“Sorry, well Willie said that he hasn’t heard of anything going down. There have been a few mumblings about the ‘Slayer slacking on her duties’, otherwise nada.”
“So that means Buffy is still alive and hopefully unharmed. There is no way a slayer would be…without the whole Hellmouth knowing. They may be demons, but they do talk. Quite the gossipers from what Buffy told me.” Willow’s voice held promise with a hint of relief as she addressed the others.
“That may be, but regardless of the lack of information circulating throughout the demon community, the fact remains, Buffy is still missing,” Giles firmly stated as he headed towards the phone. Lifting the receiver, he slowly punched into the keypad memorized numbers. Everyone silently waited as he spoke.
“Um, hell, Cordelia, yes this Giles—no we haven’t found Buffy yet, this is the precise purpose for my call—I understand Angel is quite busy, but I do believe that this is of the utmost importance—Yes, I do understand so isn’t food and your salary—Cordelia, is Angel there?“ Giles' eyes slammed shut, while frustration etched his features. When he finally spoke, this frustration bled into his tone. “Don’t you understand you foolish girl that this is a life or—“
“—death situation, yeah I get it Giles, and I know that Angel understands that too. I will give him the message, as soon as he gets back—He’s on a case right now—Well, Buffy is not the only one who’s gone missing—Fine, I’ll tell him—No, I have your number—ok, bye Giles.”
Flustered, Cordelia noisily dropped the receiver onto its base. Sensing Wesley’s focused, poignant stare, she turned to face him.
“Don’t say it,” Cordelia snapped, eyeing him with warning.
“Obviously this is serious Cordelia, if Giles has been calling non-stop for two days.”
“I said not to say it!”
“Regardless of what you think, or your feelings about Buffy, this is an—“
“Fine, fine it’s an emergency! But I’m warning you now, when he turns into Mr. Broody pants and we lose the McNamara account because he rushed off the Sunnydale to find Buffy…who by the way, has pulled off a Little Miss Runaway before, I don’t want to hear you complain when there’s no more tea and crumpets for you!”
With a dramatic huff, Cordelia grabbed her coat and stormed out of the office, leaving Wesley to wait alone for Angel’s return. Only an hour earlier, Angel had headed to a bar called Shots in Silver Lake, to follow up on a lead in the McNamara case.
Giles’ Apartment
Giles slammed the receiver down, causing the table to shake and the others to startle. While muttering about an ‘incompetent, foolish girl’ and ‘I should have dusted him long ago’, he began to pace angrily. The others stared in amazement from the usual behavior of the typically calm Watcher. Willow attempted to calm the livid man, with soft soothing words.
“Giles, Angel does care for her. Remember Thanksgiving? I bet its Cordelia that’s being difficult, not Angel—“
His pacing stopped immediately, as his fury-filled gaze fell on her. “Willow, I don’t bloody care about Thanksgiving or Cordelia! This is the present, and right now, we need Angel’s vampire skills of tracking and his ties with the demon community more than ever! That foolish girl, she may cost Buffy her…” Witnessing renewed tears welling in Willow’s emerald eyes halted his words. With a deep sigh, he stepped forward. Giles’ tender words mirrored the touch of his hand on Willow’s upper arm.
“I’m sorry Willow, sorry to all of you. This is a trying time for everyone and my lashing out is counterproductive and highly insensitive.” Anya’s incessant murmuring to Xander broke his concerned fixed gaze with Willow. With interest, he looked towards her, questioning the ex-demon.
“Anya, is there more that you two heard at or from Willie?”
Sensing his hesitation, Anya urged Xander with a sharp poignant look. “Xander, tell them the rest.” Willow and Giles’ inquiring gaze trained on him, awaiting his words.
“An, I don’t think that’s important. This is about Buffy, not the bleached menace.”
“Xander, every bit of information is important, “Willow implored.
“Fine, fine…Willie said that he hasn’t seen Spike around since the ‘slayer started to shirk her duties.’ And when we went by his crypt, he wasn’t there. We also found a shopping bag filled with butcher’s blood and cigarettes along the way.”
Their eyes widened with the implication of Spike having anything to do with Buffy’s disappearance. Tension from this new fact startled the room into silence. Until Willow’s voice filled with confusion and uncertainty rang out.
“Giles, how could Spike have anything to do with Buffy missing? Sure, he’s a vamp, a master vamp at that, but with the chip, he can’t bite. Can’t even hit or grab a human without big-time pain.”
“Willow, regardless of the chip, Spike is a master vampire. He’s very resourceful and cunning and may have found a way around his infliction. If Spike is involved, I fear right now as we speak, he may be doing something absolutely evil—“
**** ****
“Do you have any eights?”
“Go fish!” Buffy giggled while she threw Spike another card from the pile. The two roomies sat across from one another, only the red line separating them. Buffy had the pick up pile on her side, since she didn’t trust Spike not to cheat.
“Slayer, do we really have to play this soddin’ kid’s game?”
“Yes, yes we do. This game is Buffy-approved. Not like the game you suggested.” Her face scrunched slightly from his previous idea.
“What, strip poker is a bloody brilliant game. Anyway, it’s not like I haven’t seen your naughty bits before.” Spike’s tongue alluringly curled against his front teeth, in a very suggestive manner.
Buffy’s eyes were immediately drawn to his mouth, while her mind raced with flashes of him in the shower, streams of cascading water flowing over his sculpted chest, following a delicious path downwards. His hand of his impressive—
“Do you have any kings?”
“Huh? Hey, it’s my turn you cheater! Do you have any kings?”
Grumbling Spike tossed over his king, while Buffy did a little happy dance as she paired them and placed the match at her side.
“Anyhow, being all perv and spying on me in the shower doesn’t equal me willingly showing you my…my naughty bits.” Unable to meet his gaze she felt bore into her, Buffy continued to busy herself with her cards.
“And when you were spying on me while I was showering, what does that equal?”
Buffy’s now enlarged eyes moved from her hand to him. His blue eyes seemed to have a life of their own as they flickered with forbidden pleasure and wanton desire. Buffy slowly licked her suddenly dry lips. Their gazes remained fixed. Endless moments passed until an outside voice broke their stare.
“Ten minutes little girl,” Jack’s menacing tone rang through the silent room.
Buffy’s eyes fell away first, while she began to collect the cards. Silently, Spike threw his cards over the line, stood and walked towards the wall. Turning to face the surface, Buffy hid the cards under her pillow and began to disrobe. Attempting to dispel the awkwardness of him speaking the truth, she quickly changed the subject.
“So, I never did ask you, how did you get the cards?”
“Nicked them from the guard I attacked, well, before I got zapped. Was looking for some fags, but found those instead,” Spike explained casually.
He was grateful not to be facing her. The truth of why he’d attacked the guard clearly written on his face. He’d attacked the guard for her honor, searching for things to take from the guard was an afterthought. Before he broke down and told her the truth, her sweet voice filled his ears again.
“All Oliver Twist like?”
“No luv, if you remember Oliver got caught. S’more like the Artful Dodger.”
“Well, I’m glad that you used your skills to get us something to do in here—“
Spike became instantly lost in his thoughts following her words. Endless images of her bare spread before him. He visualized himself utilizing his skills upon her heated body. His teasing hands and mouth met each inch of her glorious, golden skin. Devouring, tasting, exploring as her pleasure-filled moans and mewls rang in his ears. Only the incessant biting from the metal embedded into his erection pulled him from his thoughts.
Hearing her door sliding open urged Spike to shake away lingering thoughts and turn. The customary three guards and Jack stood by Buffy’s side. Clad in her battle leather and a slight smirk, Buffy glanced towards Spike.
“Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to work, I go! Don’t miss me too much.”
“Ta Slayer. Have a good time and remember, don’t die. You’re still my ticket out of here and all.”
“Will do,” Buffy countered with casualness. Following a small wave, she headed out of the room, the four men in tow. Jack eyed Spike with disdain briefly then followed.
Despite the lightheartedness and joking manner between them, the same disturbing feeling of discomfort and unease plagued him. Once the door slid shut, Spike’s lengthy strides ate away the small space ahead of him as he waited for her return.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Well, decided to post a little early. Hope you don't mind! I'm so happy that this story is being well received and I hope that you all will continue to enjoy my little tale. Big thanks to Sanityfair as always. You're the best babe!
Chapter End Notes:
Reviews feed the muse! Make her nice a fat!!!