Chapter 6


The Boss wouldn't be pleased with the fact that Kevin and Justin were dust at the hands of the Slayer. The point of their outing had been to track down the one and only Miss Summers then report back to the man in charge. When they deviated from the plan, it proved to be the worst decision, and now he was the poor vamp who’d have to suffer the consequences.

He never knew what to expect when the guy got angry. Once, he saw him torture a demon that did him wrong, and many times before, had seen him kill the ones that failed. However, sometimes he just eyed them and would stay silent before walking away. Hopefully, this time he’d get the silent treatment and not something wooden through the chest.

“Hey Boss.”

“Jacob,” he motioned to the chair across from where he was sitting, “Please, sit.”

That was another thing Jake didn’t know how to handle. The English are so prim and proper and so polite it threw him for a loop. How was he supposed to know if the man was angry or not? It was time to tread softly. Like an obedient dog, he sat.

In a deep, rich accented voice, “You reek of fear. Why is this Jacob?”

Jake audibly swallowed, “We ran into the girl tonight, Sir.”

His only reaction was to perk a single brow, “Oh?”

“She had a human with her, so we thought we’d grab her and bring her to you...,” gulping down his nerves, “But Kev and Jay-”

“Enough.” An order. It was not shouted but said with such vehemence that even the crickets chirping instantly terminated their songs. Rising from his chair and slowly pacing the length of the room, “I did not come all this way to have my servants decide for me and ruin all the chance of success.”

“I’m sorry Boss. We should have known. The only reason I got away was because she was more worried over the life of her human than me. Otherwise-”

No longer pacing, he stood tall, making his ranking clear, “Tell me of this human. And remember, this new information may save your existence.”

It was phrases like those that would put any creature in a state of compliance. “It was a guy. Had a Billy Idol style going for him. You know, like, bleached hair, black clothes, and a British accent. A-and I think she call em’ Spike?”

The last part seemed to pique interest, “Spike? Are you sure?” The surprises kept coming.

****

Since the fight in the graveyard with the three vampires, there hadn’t been much speaking between Spike and Buffy. She seemed to be too stunned for words, which Spike thought he’d never see the day, but he waited patiently for her to say something. He wished he could know what she was truly thinking instead of coming up with all the “what ifs” his mind had to offer. Like, what if she’s thinking of all the possibilities for their future, or what if she is trying to think of a new excuse not to fall in love? The fact that she hadn’t run away is what kept him in high spirits and from demanding her thoughts. He knew she was processing the events of the night by the way she kept biting her lower lip.

The only words Buffy mumbled were “come on” after helping Spike up off the grass earlier. She led him right back to his crypt, grabbed some first aid supplies he had in the corner by the fridge, then with him in the chair, she began cleaning the cut above his eye. Spike wasn’t going to be the fool who complained about receiving special treatment, he rather enjoyed the way Buffy was taking care of him. It was soothing how gentle her tiny hands were as she dabbed up the blood with some cotton. This was something he could get used to, a softer side of the Slayer.

“How long have you known?” she questioned softly.

He turned his head up to look at her sitting on the arm of his chair. As she capped the hydrogen peroxide bottle, he began speaking about what had happened. “Not very. Only learned of it myself when I woke in your room. Saw somethin‘, turned out to be my reflection. The fact I was human dawned on me shortly after.”

“So that’s why you used the fire escape route?”

“Course. Why’d you think?”

“I dunno. Maybe that you left because you were so fed up and today was the last straw?”

“Not possible. You know I could never leave. I love you too much, Buffy.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t stupid thinking.”

The tomb grew dead with silence again. “So...,” drawing in a sufficient amount of air to fuel his courage, “Does this change things between you n’ me, pet?”

Admiring the cuteness of his nervousness, she almost didn’t hear what Spike had asked, “It does. But, part of me doesn’t believe this is happening and the other part seems to keep backing her up.”

“Trus’ me, the whole bloody ordeal don’ seem real. I was on my way to find answers when you bumped into me.”

“I think you were the one doing the bumping.”

Giving his signature grin, “You wish.” A slight blush colored Buffy’s cheeks as she looked everywhere except him. He found it amazing that a girl who had done the things she had, in this very spot no less, could still be so innocent in moments like these. “You mind if we get a bite? Human hunger is far worse than being peckish.” There was no sense in pushing their relationship right now, even so, it pained him that she was still unable to admit feelings he thought would have come easily from the new circumstance. Optimism that she soon would, kept him at peace, but he knew they still had tangles to comb through.

****

Twenty-five minutes and a mix-mash of food later, the fridge in the Summers' home was empty, but Spike's stomach was so full he thought he may be sick. Watching the newly turned human raid her refrigerator had to be filed into her favorite top ten list. Upon leaving the crypt, Buffy suggested her place because Willow had just gone grocery shopping, so it was stocked full of goodies. The house was practically deserted, besides the sleeping witch upstairs. Dawn was sleeping over at her friend, Janice’s house.

The moment they stepped foot into the kitchen, Spike flung the icebox doors open, snatching up all his mitts could carry. Buffy sat on a stool at the other side of the island as he piled it high with delicious ingredients. She couldn’t stop laughing as he’d open something to test its taste, like when the ice-cream in the back of the freezer was no longer a secret. He dipped his index finger into the container, licking its contents off with a satisfied moan.

“No wonder you dozy bints love this,” he managed to say while cramming more into his mouth.

Laughing loudly Buffy shook her head, “Most bints use a spoon!”

“But my way’s much tastier;” immersing his digit back into the ice-cream once more, and holding it over the table, “Nibble?”

Buffy rose with a soft smile and leaned over the counter. Her tongue lightly swept along the bottom of his finger before wrapping her lips around him, sucking the cream off slowly. Spike couldn’t help but gasp. Watching those lips surround, well, any part of him, made his cock twitch. Bending forward, capturing her mouth in a sweet kiss, his tongue begging entrance, which she granted. It was unlike any of their past rendezvous when it was always a battle, this was soft and sensual. Spike felt like it was a major impact, like he had a place in her life and not just the guy who helped get her rocks off.

Gently tugging on her bottom lip, “You taste delectable.”

Being swept up in these moments with Spike was simple, the way he worshiped her, and talked with the sexy accent was enough for her body to take control of her mind. Grinning against his lips, “Mmm... I bet I’d taste better with ice cream.”

Wouldn’t that be the ticket? Licking his new favorite treat off her perfect breasts. “I don’ think you have a soddin’ clue as to what you do to me,” he replied, voice drenched with arousal, as he slid around the center island.

Her eyes landed on the pronounced bulge in his jeans, “I think I do.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

Masculine palms slid down her back, cupping her ass as he pulled her to him. Smirking, he squeezed, lifting her off the floor effortlessly and setting her atop the counter. Her lips were slightly swollen now and he couldn’t help but crash his to hers, massaging her tongue with his, “God, you’re gorgeous.”

With years of living, and a hundred of not, Spike found that much of what he learned was all compiled within him. From common sense to book smarts, and regular gut reaction, it all was something time had allowed him to become skilled at. He broke contact from Buffy’s kiss, concentrating on the back door window. “You hear that?”

For a few seconds she listened, “Nope,” she answered, pulling him in again.

Frowning, Spike freed himself from the Slayer’s embrace, walking towards the door, scanning the backyard for any sign of an intruder.

“Spike?”

Without turning his head, “Uhh... What?”

“Something wrong?” she asked, twisting herself to see outside better.

Bingo. Bloody well can't hide from me. “No, jus’, I should go. It’s umm... late, so,” turning back to her, “I’ll be by tomorrow, yeah? Talk bout’ it then.”

Something was off, in the major sense. When did Spike ever turn her down? Besides that time he told her to leave his crypt, which so didn‘t count. “You’re not staying?”

Their leaving gotta move Spike. “Better not. Don’ wanna be rushin’ things. Night luv.” With a quick nod and a turn of the door handle, he was off, melding into the black of the night.

It was disconcerting how he left so suddenly, but Buffy suspected he knew or saw something she didn’t. His behavior was obvious, but it didn't stop that nauseous feeling of being left once again from creeping into her tummy. The thought of having Spike as more than a fling also put butterflies in her, since now there was no excuse to keep him at bay. Maybe she was confusing butterflies with the warm fuzzies because she couldn't help but smile when she thought of lying with him in the morning, or possibly taking a walk during a sunny day. Answers for 'why' this happened didn't seem so important to her, reveling in the fact that it did was better, just in case the Powers That Be decided to take it away.





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