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Author's Chapter Notes:
Here's a nice lengthy chapter as my apology for keeping you waiting. :) Enjoy!

Big thanks to All4Spike for the swift editing!!
Chapter 36

The tension of an impending argument from their earlier conversation at the diner gradually dissipated as they drove down the highway. She took in Spike’s slightly sullen expression and figured he’d capitulated for the time being.

The Sex Pistols’ ‘Pretty Vacant’ blared from the radio, a song that she’d become quite familiar with during the road trip. It was starting to give her a headache.

“Can I change the station please?” Well, better to ask nicely than risk Spike’s wrath. His obsession with this car bordered on kinky.

“Why? What’s wrong with The Pistols?”

“The fact that it might make my brain explode in about a minute is a reason number one on a very long list.” The title also reminded her of Harmony and that was the last thing Buffy needed to have on her mind.

“Just don’t put any bubble gum pop on or I’ll throw you out of the car.”

Well, that was easier than she’d expected. She was almost disappointed he hadn’t put up more of a fight. “I bet you listen to Katy Perry when no one’s there to hear.”

Spike gave her a horrified look. “You take that back.”

She finally found something she liked— a mellow, old rock song that soothed her abused ears— and clucked her tongue. “Look who’s getting all offended. Did I hit a nerve?”

“No.” His scowl slowly melted into a smug little grin. “But I do like her tits.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.”

“What’s with the sour face? Jealous?”

“Shyeah. As if.” He could stare at boobs all he wanted. She wasn’t his keeper.

“Whatever you say, pet.” He bit his full bottom lip, flicked her a heated glance. “Like yours better anyway. Fit right into my hands, they do.”

She crossed her arms over the boobs in question, blood suffusing her cheeks. “Perv.”

“Oh, you like it when I’m bad, baby.”

Damn him, of course she did.

“So, fancy a bit of a rough and tumble later?”

Okay, he did not just say that. “What!”

“You. Me. Hot and sweaty. We can find a spot no one would disturb us?” Spike swallowed down the urge to chuckle at the way her eyes widened. “You know… so you can show me those fancy martial arts moves you bragged about.”

He glimpsed the realisation dawn on her face, lips pursed in a little ‘o’, before he turned his attention back to the empty road. He was just about to say how adorable she was when his peripheral vision caught sight of her foot just before she kicked him in the thigh.

“Bloody hell! What was that for?”

“I’m warming up. You know, for kicking your butt later.”

“Better not get ahead of yourself, yeah?” He rubbed the throbbing muscle. For someone so tiny, she really packed a wallop. “Wench.”

“Pig.”

Oh, he’d love to take her on. See what moves she really had in that tight little body. “You got that right.”

*******

The skies turned inky, flooded with shadows and darkness that held the familiarity of a beloved old blanket. There was something comforting about it; a way to get lost if one didn’t want to be found.

He glanced at Buffy, curled up against the side door, soundly asleep.

Runaways, the two of them. Without a home, just rumbling ground under their feet that could give way at any moment. At least she still had family to tether her amid the upcoming storm.

She muttered something and shifted, her chin lolling against her chest, brows creased in subconscious discomfort.

“Kitten, wake up.” He touched the upturned palm of her hand resting on the seat between them. “Going to have a crick in your neck if you sleep this way.”

She stirred, her lips smacking, drawing a smile out of him against his will. “Buffy.”

Her head snapped up and she blinked at him with confusion. “Huh?”

“Go lie down in the back seat, we’ve still got a bit of road to cover before the next stop.”

“Mmhmm,” she agreed, unbuckling herself, but instead of climbing to the back as he’d expected her to, she slid close to him and nestled her head in the curve between his neck and shoulder.

He considered making her go into the back seat or at least having her put a seatbelt on, but she’d already drifted off again. Being the pansy he was, he didn’t have the heart to do so anyway and curled his arm around her instead. It felt good to hold her. Really good. Good enough for him to feel the stirrings of suffocating fear at the thought of losing her.

*******

The motor rumbled to a stop as Spike killed the engine. Buffy was still out of it, tendrils of flaxen hair tickling his neck, her lips the lightest caress on the side of his throat. For a few minutes, he just sat there, reluctant to wake her up, to break the contact that breathed fresh air into parts of him that had been shut off for years.

It was her fingers shifting higher up his thigh that had him grinding his teeth in frustration and pulling her hand away. If she knew how many times her hand had accidentally wandered into his lap, she’d be mortified. Bloody good thing he was a brilliant driver and the road had been, for the most part, devoid of traffic or he’d have wrecked the car.

“Buffy,” he whispered, stroking her wrist with his thumb. “Wake up.”

She buried her face in his shoulder, mumbling something unintelligible.

“What’s that?”

“Don’t want the chicken again.”

Spike bit his lip to hold in the chuckle and gave up on waking her up. “All right, kitten. Not sure how I’m going to do this, so if I drop you, it’s your fault.”

Hell, but she slept like the dead. He swept her into his arms and out of the car but there wasn’t even a hitch in her breathing. It was when he hoisted her higher that he realised the problem. How the hell was he going to get their other stuff and lock the car?

“Spike?”

Never let it be said that she lacked great timing.

“We’re here. Need to get our stuff out of the trunk. Think you can stand for a bit?”

She nodded sluggishly and he slowly put her down, steadying her. It only took him a minute to sling the two duffel bags over his shoulder and lock the car.

“If you’re too tired, I can carry you,” he offered, taking in her rumpled appearance.

“I’ll take the bags and you—” She yawned so hard he could almost hear her jaw crack and relieved him of the bags. “—bend down.”

“Come again?” What was she on about? He really hoped she wasn’t the sleepwalking type or he’d have to be twice as vigilant. Wouldn’t do for her to wander off in the middle of the night wearing those tiny shorts she fancied to sleep in, especially in a place like this.

Her eyes half closed, she trudged closer to him, turned him around. “Piggyback?”

There was nothing he could do to stop the snicker. Not that tried very hard, frankly. “Want me to give you a ride, do you?”

“Yes,” she said, obviously missing the innuendo. Or maybe not. Who knew with her?

He bent his knees, lurching upward after her limbs wrapped themselves tightly around his body. The sleepy heat of her soaked into his muscles, even through the layers of clothes, and he had to keep a firm grasp on his motor skills to evade that particular distraction. It wouldn’t do to stumble and have them taking a nosedive, he figured, gripping her knees and striding towards the halfway decent looking building to book a room.

The receptionist didn’t even blink at the monkey on his back, most of his attention fixed on the laptop set up on the counter.

The trek to the room was short, for which Spike was grateful because he needed a bit of physical distance from her if he wanted to get any sleep tonight. Having her strong thighs clenching around his waist, her scent invading his nostrils was playing havoc with his libido.

Not that regaining distance would make everything nice and dandy again. Trying to suppress his desire for her was a moot point, for her closeness was imprinted into his flesh deeper than he’d like to admit.

He let her fall onto the mattress, but before he could straighten up, she yanked at his duster and sent him sprawling on his back.

“Tell me goodnight,” she ordered.

“Want me to tuck you in, too?”

There was a pause full of silent contemplation and then she was leaning above him, kissing him feather light. Despite the fleetingness of the kiss, the soft contact left his lips tingling long moments after she pulled away.

“Thanks. For everything.”

His throat was as dry as if he hadn’t drunk water in days, so he just sat up and nodded, feeling ridiculously shy as he braved tucking the fall of silky hair behind her ear.

“Goodnight.” He stood up, wondering why he wasn’t staggering when he felt so drunk.

Being near her or away, he was buggered either way you’d flip the coin.

*******

She’d been exhausted; the events of the last couple of days akin to stones being piled up on top of her chest, making it hard to breathe. Not everything was bad though, and the moments of levity and the unexpected anchor she’d found in Spike made things easier to bear. Just being near him was distracting and she had to wonder whether he knew the effect he had on her, how his presence sometimes set her skin on fire.

There were whispers of moments from the car drive she remembered and would never confess. There was a flicker of wakefulness when she’d thought his thigh was a pillow and in her confusion, she’d accidentally rubbed the inside seam of his jeans until she’d been squeezing the bulge she had no business squeezing. She was a molester! Especially because at that point, she’d known it wasn’t a pillow and yet hadn’t removed her hand. The wicked pleasure of having heard his frustrated groans before he squirmed away from her fingers far overshadowed any nagging pangs of guilt she may have felt.

She was a bad, bad person, and a pervert who obviously wandered around groping penises. Well, to be fair it was only Spike’s, and he probably wouldn’t have minded had she been awake.

The temptation to give in to the wild streak and reclaim his lips again, which may lead to other equally fun things, had her groaning into her pillow. She took a peek at his sleeping form, early morning light sweeping over his bare back. It would be so much easier if he wasn’t so adorable with his lips slightly parted, dark eyelashes sweeping intimate patterns under his eyes, sleep having rumpled his hair into a curly mess.

Yet even in repose, he looked troubled. She wished she could smooth out the frown from between his brows, that she was strong enough to fight his battles for him. Instinctively, she knew he wouldn’t want that. He was just like her that way. Maybe, just maybe, they could reach a truce by fighting side by side.

He drew in a sharp breath, his muscles tensing upon awakening and she had enough sense to direct her gaze elsewhere lest he accuse her of staring. Well, he wouldn’t be wrong, but she wasn’t sure her pride could take the hit.

“Morning.”

That voice, it was like an audible representation of bitter chocolate, thick and oozing. Was he trying to kill her? “Good morning,” she replied in an unsteady voice she hoped he’d fail to notice.

Then he rolled on his back and stretched, the muscles of his torso taut and straining, and she had to forcibly tear her gaze away.

“Did you have a good night’s sleep?” he asked, turning on his side to face her from the three feet distance separating their beds.

“Surprisingly, yes. By the way, sorry about making you carry me last night. I get bossy when I’m tired.” Definitely not telling him what kind of imagery permeated her dreams and that he was the leading star in most of them.

“Somehow, I doubt that’s the only time you’re bossy.” There was a lazy smile that lent a soft edge to his words.

“You know you like it.”

“Hell yeah, I do.” He tucked a pillow under his cheek and looked at her wistfully. It made her want to hide under the duvet. “Your hair’s all tangled.”

She tamped down the urge to rake her fingers through it and looked at him pointedly. “Says Mister Curly Hair.”

“Looks like my secret’s out.” He slicked his hair back with his fingers the way she’d considered doing it, but the curls sprang free as soon as he let go. The tinge of embarrassment glinting in his eyes made her ache to kiss him.

“I like it,” she confessed, the words somewhat loud in the morning light. “It’s cute.”

“Cute?” He pouted then gave her a mock glare. “That’s not very manly.”

“Oh, please. We both know that you’re plenty manly.” She twitched in an urge to capture those words and stick them where they’d never be heard, but it was too late now, his lips were already stretching into a smug grin.

“Is that right? We both know?” His eyelashes lowered.

“Umm… w-well, I…. it’s kind of hard to miss when…” Random interruptions never helped her out when she needed them, damn it. “The thing we… on your couch back when… and—”

“Sorry, did you say it was hard to miss?” He was snickering outright now and she climbed from the bed with surprising speed and a squeak of, “I need to pee.”

When she came out of the bathroom, freshened up but not any less embarrassed, she refused to look at him even though his gaze burned into the back of her neck as she pretended to be busy searching through her duffel bag.

There was a sigh followed by the padding of his feet before the bathroom door clicked closed.

Only then did she let herself relax. Her tendency to let incriminating thoughts slip out without filtering them first would be the death of her, she was sure.

When a touch on her shoulder startled her out of her thoughts a few minutes later, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard him come out.

“I didn’t mean to push so hard.”

She’d never expected the indirect apology and it took her a few seconds to gather her thoughts.

“It’s okay.” She twisted around to face him, her heart hammering when he sat down next to her on the tangled sheets. “I just feel really stupid now.”

“Hey, none of that now. I’m a prat who doesn’t know when to stop.”

Her fingers frantically picked at the sheet to distract herself from the sudden intensity of his eyes. “Do you think I’m childish?”

He tilted his head in that way that drove her crazy. “’Course I don’t. If anything you’re more mature than most of the people I know. And I’m talking big guys in their thirties or near retirement age. You’d be shocked how childish those blokes can get.”

That drew a chuckle out of her, though she still felt as if there was something she needed to prove. To make him see her as an equal, not someone in need of protection, or a high school would-be graduate that couldn’t hold her own.

“I know I’m a bit naïve sometimes, I do. I don’t mean to be—”

He cradled her jaw and caught her gaze, fire and softness at the same time. “Having a bit of innocence left is not a bad thing, Buffy. I’ll be honest… it’s one of the things I like most about you.”

She could have teased him about his admission of liking anything about her, to steer the seriousness of the moment and transform it into something lighter, but she couldn’t. There was a sudden clarity nudging her to circle his wrist as his thumb stroked her cheek. This wasn’t the time to play games, and growing up meant being honest with oneself no matter how scary it could be.

“Spike, I need to tell you something, but you can’t say anything until I’m done because otherwise I’ll lose my nerve.” He looked worried as he nodded in agreement, but his touch was the source of strength that kept her resolution strong. “I want you. Not just on a borrowed time and stolen kisses. I want all of you. And I know you can feel it too, this … it feels right, and before you say anything, I want you to know that I’m utterly terrified right now, telling you this, but I can’t dance around it anymore because it’s going to drive me crazy eventually. So, this is me, and… tell me if I’m out of line. Do you… do you want me too? In that way?”

His hands slid from her face and panic stirred in her chest when she sensed him shut down, his eyes unreadable. Her pulse was racing and the longer he took to answer, the stronger the trembling seized her core. What if she’d been wrong and misread all the signs indicating he wanted her too? But no, she couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have kissed her and touched her and looked at her with those eyes that betrayed far more than he was probably aware of. Would he?

Waiting for him to form words was the longest, most terrifying moment in her life, because she knew… he was the only person with the power to crush her heart to dust.

TBC


Chapter End Notes:
Sorry about the cliffhanger, it was getting to be too long. ;)



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