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Author's Chapter Notes:
Here's the continuation of fun Spuffy.

Thanks to All4Spike for betaing. She's always as fast as a speeding bullet! :D
Chapter 20

Tugging on the shirt that hung loosely on her frame, Buffy made her way down the stairs and into the living room. It was still utter wreckage. The only thing different was the clothes drying rack in front of the fireplace.

“I like your knickers. Much more pink than I expected, though I do like a girl that’s a fan of Sponge Bob,” he said, making her blood boil in embarrassment. “But as I suspected, they were very wet.”

“From the water!”

“Have I suggested anything else?” He waggled his eyebrows and stretched his legs in front of him as though he was a king sprawled upon his throne.

“The tone of your voice did.” She felt entirely too naked as she sat down next to him and folded her arms across her chest.

“That shirt looks better on you than it does on me.” The prowling hunger in his eyes so unerringly focused on her had her heart stammering.

“It’s too big on me,” she said softly. Right now he reminded her of a lion lazily lying in the sun, deceptively calm but dangerous nonetheless. “Spike?”

“Hmm?”

“Could you please stop looking at me as if I’m dinner?”

He tilted his head, the tip of his tongue wetting his bottom lip. She just hoped he didn’t hear her whimper.

“I see you more as a dessert, actually.”

Oh damn him and that smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “You know this is all your fault, right? Me wearing your clothes and stuff.”

“As I see it, you’re the one who dragged me into the shower to begin with.”

“That was for your own good.” She tucked her legs underneath her and settled back against the cushions. “Why were you drinking anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Spike slid further down on the cushions and propped his feet on the overturned table. He turned his face away and she was left looking at his profile as he said, “Family trouble. Can’t kill them…” He shrugged the rest of the sentence off and flicked her a glance. “Speaking of families, you might want to call your Dad to let him know you’ll be late. It’ll take a while for your jeans to dry off.”

“How long?” Oh boy, she had a bad feeling about this.

“Well, more than two hours, I suspect.”

“Hours?” Okay, she might have shrieked a little. But hours? She could not be in such close vicinity of Spike for that long. It was against the natural order! It would no doubt result in something… violent. And that would be bad. Very bad.

“You could always borrow my jeans, though I imagine your Dad wouldn’t be too happy to see you wearing my kit,” he said in a way too nonchalant manner.

“You’re so helpful today, aren’t you?”

Spike laced his fingers on his stomach and hummed in agreement. “It would be a vast improvement, by the way. What kind of seventeen-year-old wears flannel shirts?”

“It’s comfortable!” If she had enough will to unfold her legs from beneath her butt to kick him in the thigh, she would. “Like you’re one to speak anyway, Mister I-only-wear-black.”

“Didn’t you hear? Black is the new black. Besides, I wear grey and dark blue too.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “You know, if your shirt caught fire, I’d be doing you a favour.”

“I stole it from Dad, so you’d be burning his stuff, not mine.” Ha! Take that, smart ass.

“Why the bloody hell would you do that? Don’t they sell girly stuff in SunnyD?”

Did she look like some Barbie fashionista to him? “I steal it from him because he refuses to buy me men’s clothing… for some really irrational reason. Besides, why are you criticising my fashion choices again?” She shook her head. “And you wonder why I thought you were gay.”

“Hey! That’s just nasty. Why would I want to cuddle some bloke’s hairy arse when I can cuddle with a soft, sweet…” He coughed. “Right. Not gay.”

She wished he was. At least she would stop having those wrong lusty feelings. “Got it. You’re a manwhore.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve only slept with… yeah, all right. But I only had feelings for one.” His brows drew together in a frown. “Well, that turned out just brilliantly.”

She didn’t like the somber expression on Spike’s face, didn’t really want to see him as a man who’d had his heart broken. “I’m sure you’ll get it right next time.” Wow, that sounded really—

“Oh, don’t patronize me,” he said.

Yup, it’d sounded really patronizing. “Sorry, I really suck at the whole advice thing.”

“I’m beyond help anyway,” he said with a sigh.

“You know, I had to go to shrink when I was little.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wondered why her tongue disobeyed her the second he was near.

Spike turned his head to face her. “Did it help?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” she said. “I learned how to lie better.”

He chuckled. “That’s a valuable skill right there.”

She swallowed nervously before asking, “So, what happened to you? I mean…. You know, not there’s anything wrong with you. I just…” There were so many questions she wanted to ask him. Personal questions about who he really was and what had happened to made him so cynical and guarded. It seemed wrong to demand the answers though. “Forget it. It’s none of my business.”

Spike blinked. “Did you just say something was none of your business? Have I entered the Twilight zone? Because you’ve never been shy of sticking that cute little sniffer into my business before.”

She pursed her lips in irritation at being the target of his sarcasm. “You’re an ass. I was just being polite.”

“And calling people an ass is so very polite too,” he said with a teasing glint in his eyes. “But I must still be a bit drunk since I’ll answer your question. Short version? Mum and sister were killed when I was thirteen. I ran away from foster care when I was fifteen with a girl I loved and who didn’t love me back. She disappeared some time after. Since then, I guess you could say I’ve been hunting for a reason to come to terms with it all.” He snorted though she could see the hurt tightening the muscles around his mouth. The hurt he was trying to downplay with blasé attitude. “I get in trouble a lot, which is why you should be steering clear of me rather than sitting here.”

“What kind of trouble?” She shuffled closer and touched the scar on his neck that was partially hidden by his black T-shirt. “Like this?”

Spike inhaled sharply and leaned away from her touch, rubbing at the spot she’d grazed.

“How did you get it?” she pressed on.

“Animal managed to get a bite of me,” he muttered.

“Like an angry puppy?” she said with a frown. Good thing Dad hadn’t allowed her any animals if this was how pets behaved.

“Something like that, yeah.”

Buffy regarded his closed off expression, the slightest tick in his jaw and wondered if he’d ever tell her the whole truth. His muscles were tense though he tried to appear relaxed and unconcerned. She got it though. It seemed like he’d been alone for the better part of his life, on his own since thirteen. She couldn’t even imagine what that would be like and for a moment she could almost see him. Younger, more vulnerable with sandy curls falling into his bespectacled eyes.

Huh. What a strange visual.

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“What is your natural hair colour?”

He looked at her as if she’d asked him to dance naked to YMCA. “Light brown. Why?”

“Have you ever worn glasses?”

The corner of his lips pulled into a puzzled smile. “I wear contacts. What’s with the twenty questions?”

“Just curious,” she said, though there was something within her skull raging to get free.

“There seems to be a lot of that going around today.” His eyes were fixed on hers with that strange intensity. As though he was trying to delve deep into her soul to pull out her every secret.

She broke the connection and glanced over his shoulder to the big window. Better change the subject and dilute his focus. “Great. By the time my stuff dries off, I’ll have to trudge through the woods in the dark. I hate when that happens. Stupid branches always smack me in the face,” she said sullenly.

“You can’t!” Spike tried to tone down the panic at the thought yet it seeped through anyway. There was no way he’d let her traipse around on her own, not after sunset. Eline might still be in town.

“Of course I can. I’ve still got feet, last time I looked.”

“There was a …uh… a bear. And raccoons. They come out at night, the savage little bastards. It’s not safe.” And bloody hell, he couldn’t even walk her home because if Eline saw her by his side, there would be bloodshed. It would be Dru all over again.

“Spike, I’ve walked through there at night lots of times. I mean sure, it’s not very pleasant, but it’s not dangerous. And there aren’t any bears in Sunnydale.”

“Come on, we could have fun,” he said. “Keep me company?”

She shook her head and he saw the way she looked at him. As if he’d lost his marbles.

“I can see Dad would be really happy about that,” she said, her voice oozing sarcasm.

Spike slammed the lid on his panic and shifted closer to her, his eyelashes dipping. “Tell him you’re doing a school project. That you’re having a girly sleepover. Anything.”

He knew he affected her and he felt vaguely guilty about exploiting it to keep her at the house. Then he remembered the reason for it and shrugged the guilt off.

“I mean, he knows about Anya, but…” She shook off the daze and narrowed her eyes. “Why would you even want me to stay?”

His heart thumped in his chest in anxiety that he couldn’t keep her here. That he’d fail to keep her safe. Without thinking, his fingers delved into her damp hair to tug her closer as he pressed his lips to hers. She gasped in surprise and he used the moment to deepen the kiss, to caress the softness of her mouth with his tongue. The second her taste hit him, his senses spun out of control. There was a reason he was doing this but as Buffy tentatively returned his caress, he stopped caring.

Her fingernails scratched the back of his neck, making him groan and pull her tightly against his chest as his free hand sneaked beneath the borrowed shirt to stroke the silk of her back. Kissing her felt like being caught in the middle of a brewing storm, overwhelming and heady and making adrenaline soar through his veins. His lips slanted against hers before his teeth nipped at her bottom lip.

Her hands braced against his chest and suddenly the exhilaration of her kiss was gone and he was left dazed when she pushed him off and jumped to her feet.

“Why did you do that?” she asked with wide eyes, her chest heaving with rapid breaths.

Why had he done that? He couldn’t remember. How was he supposed to concentrate when she wasn’t wearing any bra?

“I should go home now. Before…”

“No, wait.” He leapt to his feet and caught a hold of her arm. “You can’t go outside in damp clothes. You’ll get ill.”

“I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” Her gaze darted around the room as though searching for a plausible reason. “Because you make me lose control and I don’t like that,” she said quietly, not looking at him.

“Please stay.”

Refusing even to glance at him, Buffy backed away and all but ran towards the drying rack to retrieve her kit. He caught up with in few short strides and gripped the other leg of her jeans. They were drier than he’d expected but certainly not fit to be worn for a December stroll.

“Spike, let go.”

“No.”

“If you don’t, I’ll kick you.” Her eyes blazed. It made him raise his eyebrow in challenge.

“Give it your best try,” he said.

She gave him an almost murderous glare but the effect was somewhat spoilt by her swollen lips. Swollen from his kisses. Hell, he wanted her to kick him. Maybe it would get the images of stripping her naked out of his mind.

She did kick him. Hard. His shin throbbed but he was used to pain and never loosened his grasp on those bloody pants. They ended up in a tug-of-war, each yanking with all their might. For such a tiny girl, she was unexpectedly strong.

“You’re insane,” Buffy accused, her cheeks flushed. Perhaps it was the residual alcohol racing through his system but he saw her bite back a grin.

“I’m not giving up,” he warned her breathily. “You should give up before we tear them in half.”

“It’s quality stitching,” she replied, her eyes shooting daggers, trying to intimidate him into letting go.

Well, if she didn’t look bloody hot dressed only in his shirt and those bear boxers. And her chest heaved in the most delectable way.

Buffy yanked hard and he stumbled forward, stepping on her toe. With a yell she jumped up and they both let go of the jeans in surprise. They fell to the floor and Spike accidentally kicked them into the fireplace.

Buffy’s jaw dropped as she stared at the flames devouring her jeans and he waited for an imminent explosion.

“You burned my jeans!” She slapped him on the chest hard enough to leave a mighty sting. “I can’t believe you did that!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

They faced off as he waited for the other shoe to drop. Her eyes practically gleamed with a fanatic need for revenge, making him tense in preparation to deflect any punch she might throw at him.

Her lips curled in a vicious smile before she twirled on her heel and walked towards the couch. What the hell was she up to?

She bent over to pick something up.

“I think these cookies will have to be thrown out,” she said and tossed off the lid.

Not the cookies!

“Wait. I’m sorry,” he said desperately. “Don’t be hasty and do something you might regret.”

A second ticked by and then she was off, sliding on the polished wooden floor in the oversized socks he’d lend her. Like he’d let her get away and destroy those delicious cookies? Spike raced after her and reached her right as she entered the kitchen. It took her few precious seconds to locate the bin. Just enough time for him to wrap his arms around her waist and yank her towards him.

He expected her to bite him or stomp on his foot, but instead she stilled. Should he let her go? It was probably a trick to lull him into a false sense of security.

“Buffy?”

“You burned my pants,” she said. And promptly burst into laughter.

His hold slackened as he fought the giggle rising in the back of his throat. Men did not giggle.

“You should have seen the look on your face when I threatened the cookies,” she sputtered through laughter and he couldn’t help but join her.

Dropping his forehead on her shoulder, he chuckled and said, “Can I have them then?”

Buffy turned around in his arms. “I haven’t decided yet.”

He tilted is head to the side and gave her his best pitiful expression.

“Stop that,” she chided him with a mock severe look. “You got me in so much trouble it’s not even funny.”

No, he just kept her from the possibility of being a vampire happy meal. Not that she’d believe that.

“I should have burned that atrocious shirt instead,” he mumbled under his breath.

“I heard that.” The instant she stepped away from him, he had to restrain the urge to pull her back, to let her warmth wrap around him again.

Luckily, she relinquished the cookie box to him, which he immediately took advantage of and stuffed his mouth so full he could barely chew.

Meanwhile Buffy called her father and made up some excuse of staying over at her new friend’s house to do a school project. He wondered if she’d have worn tiny frilly shorts and engaged in a pillow fight if it had been true. Probably not.

“Can you believe he didn’t even question me? It was all weird. Like he was in a hurry,” Buffy said with a wrinkled nose. “Good thing school’s out, since I’ll have to sneak in when Dad’s at the store. Seeing me wearing your clothes would probably give him a heart attack.”

Buffy’s father wasn’t the only one that could get a heart attack. Bloody hell, but that girl didn’t realise what it did to him to see her sitting Indian style. Just one more shift and…

“Zoning out much?” she said and stole a cookie from the box he was clutching to his chest.

This would be a long, long night.

TBC


Chapter End Notes:
Hope you had fun reading this chapter. ;)



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