Chapter 10
“Oh Spike.”
“Buffonia.”
“Spike”
“The things you do, I’m…”
A loud, guttural cough interrupted the passionate moment. Spike looked up to find Chewie holding the Blue Ortega.
“Oh, sorry mate,” he said, peeling Buffonia off him. She made a small protest and tried to climb back into his lap, so he kissed her again, because since he’d bitten her he didn’t seem to be able to stop. Her hand crept around his neck and pulled him determinedly towards her so he could feel her soft breasts pressing against his chest and her surprisingly strong thighs clamped around his waist. He wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and take her back to his cabin, where they’d spent the last couple of hours making love in every position he could remember, but another loud cough from Chewie reminded him that, for now, they should be concentrating on more urgent things. Like staying alive.
“Sorry, baby,” he said, in a deep, lusty voice. “Make it up to you, promise.” When he stood up she slithered down his body and looked up at him with wide eyes.
“You don’t love me any more?”
“Sure I do, princess. Promise this won’t take long.”
Spike stood up and adjusted his pants while he tried to get his mind onto the Blue Ortega drop. Damned difficult when Buffonia was standing there in front of him hair all dishevelled, well kissed lips formed into the cutest pout, and her green eyes melting with half-shed tears.
“No, you don’t.” she said pitifully. “You prefer Chewie to me.”
Chewie stepped smartly away and Spike was back across the cabin in two strides, holding Buffonia’s face in his hands. Just one more kiss, he thought lowering his mouth to hers. The Klum Fei would just damned well have to wait because nothing was more important than this. Her leg wound around his thigh, and she was almost climbing his body when Chewie gave another impatient growl.
“Okay, okay.” Spike turned, with Buffonia still holding on. “Yeah, I know how important that is Chewie. I’m on it.”
She was like the finest brandy and he was so drunk on her he couldn’t think straight. And her smell - so innocent and passionate at the same time. It was going to drive him crazy. But what a way to go he thought with a lop-sided grin. With a deep, appreciative sniff, Spike nuzzled into Buffonia’s neck and gave the softly-scabbing bite a gentle lick. Buffonia growled and the sound went straight to his groin, almost flooring him. He was already hard enough to burst and he’d come so many times he’d never have thought it possible, even for him. And if she did that again he was about to break some sort of record.
Chewie rolled his eyes in a complete circle and thrust the small container holding the Blue Ortega at him. Spike took it with one hand while his other arm continued to hold Buffonia against his hip, her legs wrapped around him almost like a child. Since she wasn’t about to let go, and he didn’t particularly want her to, he walked them together over to the computer and checked the read-out data on the Blue Ortega container.
“Seems to be stable enough. What’s our ETA?”
Chewie growled and Spike nodded. At the flick of a switch the readout changed to a space-map. Chewie jabbed a finger at the flashing light in the corner of the screen.
Spike narrowed his eyes while Buffonia started licking a path across the exposed skin of his throat. “Uhh, which ship is that then?” he asked Chewie and tilted back his head to give Buffonia better access.
Chewie went off into another series of growls and Spike’s eyes widened. “Really?” he said with a deep chuckle in his voice. “Hey, Buff, look at this. It’s bloody hilarious. Your Watcher-guy’s gone and got himself caught by a Vampirian cruiser. Guess it takes care of that little problem.”
Buffonia looked up, her eyes hazy with desire. She too peered at the screen then she shrugged and turned her attention back to Spike’s neck. Spike put down the Blue Ortega and groaned loudly, swivelling Buffonia so her legs were hooked around his waist and they were practically making love through their clothes.
It had to be the bonding. There was no other explanation for the sudden up-surge in lustful jealousy that had overtaken them both, and seemed to getting worse by the minute. The websites he’d been on had described the claiming as an almost spiritual experience. A joining of minds and spirits. He’d expected to feel protective towards her, perhaps a feeling of one-ness. There had even been mention of chanting and other unaccountable urges, but this possessive frenzy that was overpowering them both was a side-effect neither of them had bargained for. Chewie’s hand tapped him smartly on the shoulder and Buffonia lifted her head.
“He’s mine, Chewie, back off.” She grabbed a handful of fur and dislodged the Wookie’s wrist. Chewie raised his eyebrows and put it back again.
“I don’t think you’re hearing me straight, mister,” she declared, knocking the paw off again with the back of her hand. Chewie’s eyes were quite possibly the widest they’d ever been and Spike had to grab Buffonia around the waist because she was squirming herself free with a look on her face that said she had every intention of doing something monumentally stupid.
“Uhh, Buff,” Spike said tightening his grip. “Not wise to upset a Wookie.” Dipping his head, he tried desperately to catch her eyes, which were pointedly fixed on Chewie. Before he could stop her she’d wriggled out of his grip and was stalking across the room, backing the very alarmed Wookie against the wall.
Spike didn’t know whether to laugh or throw her over his shoulder and run back to his cabin with her for a quickie. Chewie stood on tiptoe, pressed as far back as he could into the wall, his arms in the air, palms forward, looking every bit as if he was being mugged. Buffonia, with her wild hair and blazing cheeks looked like some warrior-woman from a super-hero comic. She jabbed her finger into Chewie’s middle and he jumped, whimpering for Spike to pull her off.
“Come on, Buff,” Spike said, hands on her shoulders. “Give the big guy a break, eh? Says he doesn’t want to hurt you again.”
Buffonia shook him off. “He was looking at you, Spike, I know what he’s after.”
Chewie backed even further up the wall shaking his head vigorously and growling his denial emphatically at Spike.
“Spike’s mine,” she declared, hands on hips. “You don’t speak to him, you don’t touch him. Am I making myself clear? And you are certainly not having his babies. Tell him, Spike. No Wookie babies. I’m having your babies and, and…”
“Okay. Now this is getting weird,” Spike said watching her face crumble. Chewie took advantage of the lull and sidled away, bolting for the other side of the room as soon as he was clear and protesting indignantly at the thought that he might have ever fancied Spike. Other than that time they’d fallen into an alternate-reality zero-gravity hole and that didn’t count because they weren’t themselves then. It was just a single episode and hadn’t they agreed never to mention it again?
Spike was glad Buffonia didn’t speak Wookie. She was sobbing in earnest now and looked every bit as confused as he and Chewie were by her behaviour. “C’mon sweetheart,” he said and scooped her up. “Let’s get you sorted, shall we?” As he left the room with her he shouted instructions to Chewie, telling him to prepare the Blue Ortega for the drop and assuring him that he’d be back soon. Chewie waved him away enthusiastically, looking mighty relieved that he wouldn’t have to watch any more of the eccentric behaviour he’d been witnessing for the last hour.
Back in his cabin, Spike sat Buffonia on the edge of the bunk and knelt down in front of her.
“I’ve made your shoulder wet,” she said pointing to the damp stain on his shirt.
“You sure have.” Spike twisted to look at the wet-patch then sat back on his heels. “Heck, I’m sorry, love. Didn’t think it would feel like this.”
“You regret it?” Buffonia’s voice held a hint of panic. Spike took her hand and propped his chin on her knees.
“No way do I regret this, even if it’s driven us both a little crazy. You, this, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“I am? It is?”
“I’m on my knees in front of you, aren’t I? Worshipping you like the goddess you are.” Spike winked.
That got a watery smile from her, and it made him feel a little better. Inside he was starting to calm down, and he could see that she was too. Leaning his cheek on her lap he let himself have a moment where being there with her was the only thing that mattered. Buffonia sniffed, her hands crept into his hair to cradle his head, and he let out a long sigh.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said nodding in agreement. “I can feel it.”
Her grip tightened at his words. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Spike. Jasmine so much as looks at you again, she’s history.”
Strength was coursing through her even as she spoke. Spike lifted his head and gazed up into her determined face. The dazed look was fast being replaced by the don’t mess with me glare and he looked on in wonder as she squared back her shoulders and shook out her hair. “That’s my girl,” he said lifting a hand to caress her cheek. “Do you realise how magnificent you are when you’re like this? Aren’t many who’d take on a full-grown Wookie.”
A look of horror crossed her face as she remembered and her hands flew up to cover her eyes. “Oh, no. Poor Chewie. Spike, will you tell him I didn’t mean…” She peeked through her fingers. “Oh no, did I mention babies? I’m so embarrassed.”
“He’s cool, love. Don’t fret. And, talking of Chewie, I’d better get back to help him with the Blue Ortega.”
They both stood together. Spike only a fraction before Buffonia, who slid from the bunk and clutched at his sleeve the minute he moved away from her.
“I can’t help it,” she said, apologetically. “There’s this feeling, here.” She placed a flat palm against her heart. “A terrible feeling of panic every time you’re out of my sight. Is it always going to be like this?”
“I’ve no idea.” Spike dropped a quick kiss onto the back of each of her hands and pointed to the computer. “You go log on for bit, find out what other amusing side-effects we can expect from this. If I’m suddenly going to go bald, or turn green, then I think I’d like some prior warning.”
“I’d still love you if you were bald,” she said in a voice that told him she wasn’t quite sure if he was joking, or not. Then her hands went to her own hair. “Oh, Spike, you don’t think I’m going to…”
“Joking, love. No-one’s going to lose their hair over this. Unless we’re speaking metaphorically, of course. Let’s get this Blue Ortega dropped, then find ourselves a hyperdrive part and get our asses as far away as possible. Hey, maybe we’ll have time to go laugh at your Watcher as they tow him to Vampiria? Boy, is Darth Poofter going to have a field day when he realises he’s got himself a real-live Jedi to play with.”
“Watcher?” Buffonia pushed back her hair, a look of confusion on her face. “Oh yes, I remember. You said the Vampirians have him?”
“Yep. Daft bugger. Won’t be hearing from him again. Sure you’ll be okay if I go back up front?”
“Yes, go Spike. It’s important.” Buffonia sat herself down at the desk and flapped her hand at the computer. “I’ll find out, you know, what you said about going bald.”
The door slid open and Spike stepped through, stopping momentarily to watch his true love staring vacantly at the blank screen in front of her. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned the Watcher? The last thing he needed now was for Buffonia to start feeling a displaced sense of loyalty to him just because he was in desperate trouble and likely to lose his life if they didn’t go save him.
“What’s going to happen to him, Spike?” Her voice was barely there. As if she was afraid to ask, and as if she was already resigned to what she had to do.
“Don’t ask,” Spike replied and turned determinedly for the flight-deck. Ignoring Buffonia, her mouth half-open, about to utter words he didn’t want to hear. With a frustrated growl, he flopped down into one of the pilot’s seats and kicked the console in front of him. He kept his eyes closed long enough to hear the inevitable sound of the door swishing open and to feel a soft hand on his shoulder.
When he opened them there she was, standing beside him, her head slightly tilted in question. All the confusion and frenzy of the last few hours gone now, to be replaced by a clear, calm determination. She didn’t have to say anything, and neither did he. With a sigh of his own he covered her hand with his, gave it a quick squeeze, then pulled her down into his lap and simply held on to her. Of course she’d want to go help the daft, old buffoon, it was what she did.
Spike took her face in his hands and placed a simple, undemanding kiss on her lips. Buffonia responded with a fierce hug, and he heard the ghost of a thank-you in the warm breath fanning his cheek.
“Only for you, Buffonia.” he replied. “Only for you.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Wasn’t life just full of irony? Tense though it had been, the Blue Ortega drop went like clockwork and Spike was now solvent again. In fact there was more than enough cash to buy the new hyperdrive part for the Bug, and to get her well-supplied for a trip to the other side of the galaxy. Probably enough left over for a weekend in the best honeymoon suite on Aldis three too.
Spike counted the last of the credits into the wall-safe and tapped in the access code. The door slid shut and he replaced the panel that hid it from view.
“I’m sorry,” was all she could think of to say. He’d agreed to go help her Watcher, but apart from the few words earlier, it hadn’t been mentioned again.
“Nothing to be sorry about, Pet.” His voice was brittle and flat. Spike turned his attention to the computer screen, fingers hovering momentarily over the keyboard before he sighed and started to type.
“Yes there is.” Buffonia crossed the cabin and stared at the screen with him. “Is that his ship?”
“No,” Spike replied. “That’s him. Big blip is the Vampirian cruiser.”
“Oh.” Buffonia folded her arms in an effort not to fling herself at him. The urge was just as strong, but she was a little more in control now. The bonding still called to her, no, not called, it almost screamed at times. But she couldn’t only feel the way he wanted her in return, she could now feel how much he didn’t want to do this. And it was breaking her heart.
“I’ll do it, Spike. You don’t have to come. Get me onto his ship. There must be an escape pod I can use?”
“What kind of talk is that?” Spike didn’t look up. The screen changed to show the Bug in relation to the trapped Watcher-class ship. He frowned. “Bloody weird frequency that signal is going out on. Something’s not right here.”
“What?” Buffonia crouched down, her hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.” Spike sat back and cocked his head at the screen. “Can’t put my finger on it. Just got a bad feeling about all this. I mean, cruiser that size, guy can channel the Force. How could he have not noticed it?”
“Maybe he was busy? Spike, I meant it, it’s my responsibility, I’ll do it alone.”
“The hell you will.” Spike pulled her down onto his lap, a hand behind her neck to hold her still. “Wasn’t going to let you go before, certainly not going to now.”
It wasn’t a gentle grip and she knew exactly what he was thinking as she met his steady gaze. For better or worse, weren’t they the words bonding couples had said, or at least implied to each other since time began? So, this wasn’t a conventional marriage, but it was a marriage, there was no mistaking that. The thought hit her, suddenly. Up till then they’d been lost in the sensations of it all without stopping to think about what it actually meant. And that’s what Spike was trying to tell her.
“Thank you.” She told him again how much all this meant to her, and she wasn’t just talking about helping her Watcher. She showed him too with a kiss that made him soften and melt into a puddle of liquid want, right there in her arms.
“Hell,” he said. “I’d do anything for you. Got yourself a loyal slave here.”
Buffonia giggled at that. “I’ve always wanted one,” she said. “We’ll grab Watcher-guy and leave him somewhere safe. Then we’ll get far away from here as we can, and start a new life. How does that sound?”
“You said he was busy, what did you mean by that?
“Oh, nothing.” Buffonia gazed at the strip of smooth, white flesh showing where the fastenings gaped on his shirt. Her fingers went there automatically and his stomach muscles clenched in response. So did his hand, where he was still holding her neck.
“Answer my question,” he said, breathing the words close to her ear.
The rumble of his voice made her squirm, and for a moment she completely forgot what he was talking about, but he wasn’t going to let the subject drop.
“You know why your Watcher was so distracted, don’t you?”
“He’s been sending me messages,” she replied and tapped her head. “In here.”
“Is that how you knew about the reward the Vampirians put out for you?”
Freedom wasn’t turning out anything like she’d thought it would be. She nodded sheepishly, her shoulders slumping even more when it dawned on her that her Watcher’s plight was in some way her fault.
“No, it isn’t,” Spike said turning her face to his. “You didn’t ask to be a Slayer, none of this is your fault.”
At that moment she felt so close to Spike she could almost have had a conversation with him without words. They weren’t exactly reading each other’s minds, but Spike’s feelings about her, about going after the trapped Jedi, were coming through loud and clear. She closed her eyes, and the love and desire were still there. A tangible thing. Along with the anger and frustration.
“Did you hear me?” he said again.
“I did Spike.” She took a breath. “Okay, we won’t go. Let’s just get that hyperdrive part and disappear. You’re right, I didn’t ask for this, why should I feel responsible? Not my problem, right?”
Saying it out loud should have helped her believe it. There was a clear choice here, Spike or the Watcher. It should have been simple. She loved Spike, she owed the Watcher nothing. Therefore standing by and letting the Vampirians have their evil way with him should pose her no problems at all.
Should it? Buffonia clenched her fists and closed her eyes again. When she opened them she looked, pleading at Spike.
“Tell me it isn’t my problem.” Her voice was small and unconvincing, but Spike managed a smile for her, and a small kiss for the end of her nose.
“It isn’t your problem.” He was fussing over the read-out again, one arm hooked about her waist, It tightened instinctively as The Bug banked sharply, and landed with a bump.
Buffonia felt a shiver run over her shoulders. The tight set of Spike’s jaw, the way his fingers pounded the keyboard, just a little harder than necessary told her how serious the situation had become. She frowned. “What did you just say?”
“I said it’s not your problem.”
“Why did you say that?”
“You asked me to.”
“But, you were supposed to argue with me. Convince me it’s my duty.” Buffonia glanced out of the large, port-side window at the pink, overcast atmosphere of the planet they’d just landed on. Beyond that was the vastness of space, and somewhere out there, someone needed her. How could she even think of abandoning them?
“Stop worrying about it. We’ll get him out.”
“But I thought you said we weren’t going?”
“Didn’t say that, pet. Said you weren’t going. Didn’t say anything about me and Chewie. We’ll get him out for you, don’t worry. Gonna drop you off with a nice bloke who owes me a favour. He’ll keep you safe until I can come back for you. Shouldn’t take long. Then we’re out of here.”
“No way, he’s my Watcher, I’m coming too.”
Spike sighed and pushed back his chair. “Buff,” he said, in the weary tone parents use when they’re explaining something to a child for the tenth time. “There’s something not right here. That Watcher’s put himself into a lot of danger to get to you. Don’t you think that says something? Like you’re maybe more valuable than you thought? Like you shouldn’t go anywhere near him?”
“You’re not going without me, Spike. You’re…hey, put me down.”
The world tilted and suddenly the rec-room was upside-down and she was dangling over Spike’s shoulder. “Sorry,” he said. “Can’t do that. You’re going to stay with my good friend Clem, I’m going to go sort your problem. End of story.”
“Put me down, oh hi Chewie.” She waved at the Wookie who seemed totally un-fazed at the sight of Spike carting her, under protest, out of the rec-room. “I’m sorry about earlier, you know with the babies…Spike put me down, I need to talk to Chewie.”
Spike stopped for a moment. “Only if you promise to go stay with Clem while I get your Watcher out.”
“No way. Where are you taking me?”
“I told you, to Clem’s lair. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, your choice.”
“I can’t believe this. Chewie, tell him to put me down.”
Chewie pretended not to hear.
“Okay, we’ll do it the easy way. Put me down, I’ll go stay with Clem.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Well, of course I don’t mean it. You’re a barbarian, Spike.”
“And you love it,” he countered without breaking his stride. The exit door opened at their approach and the walkway extended. Spike stepped out, obviously confident that the air was breathable and the shadowy light wasn’t going to hurt him, and looked around to get his bearings.
“I do not, well, okay, yes I do, but there’s a time and a place.” Lifting her head she looked around and would have jumped back if Spike hadn’t been holding her upside-down. Standing before them, staring curiously were a small group of vaguely humanoid life-forms with perhaps the most wrinkly skin she’d ever seen. Boy did they need to moisturise. “Spike…” she began.
“No need to panic,” he assured her. “Possibly the friendliest creatures in the galaxy. Anyone know where Clem lays his head these days?” he shouted to the assembled crowd.
They broke into a round of chatter, then one of them stepped forward. “Reckon you’ll find him at the family home.” The creature pointed to Buffonia. “Have you brought him a present?”
“Naa, need some babysitting doing. He still at the old Crypt?”
“He is.” The creature’s hand came out to stroke Buffonia’s cheek with a surprisingly gentle touch. “Is she yours?” it asked.
Buffonia jumped more out of surprise than anything. Spike chuckled and tightened his grip. “It’s your skin.,” he told her. “They don’t understand how it can be so tight without hurting. Yeah, she’s mine.” Buffonia gave another shriek as Spike gave her bottom a sharp tap. “Just need somewhere safe to leave her for a while.”
“Oh, Clem will do that,” the creature said scurrying on ahead and beckoning them to follow. “He’s very good with pets.”
“Just need him to watch her for a while. Got some business to take care of. And it’s man’s work.”
That did it. He might have got away with it if he hadn’t smirked, but she’d seen it. Buffonia twisted sharply, catching Spike off-guard. He cursed, but she wriggled right out of his grasp and hit the ground with a bump. Spike lunged, but he wasn’t catching her a second time. She looked around for an escape and spotted an opening in the crowd, which parted when she charged towards them.
“Still having woman-trouble, I see.” The voice came from somewhere above her just before she bumped into something soft and springy. It delayed her enough for Spike to be able to grab her again.
“No,” Spike said, tightening his grip on her arm. He spoke through gritted teeth. “All under control. Need a favour Clem. Some babysitting.”
“No worries.” Clem flashed her a grin. “Passions is on tonight. I could order some spicy wings in.”
“Is he for real?” Buffonia gazed up at the strangely benevolent-looking creature who was Clem, and who never in a million years would she have put in the same sentence as spicy wings.
“You’ll like Clem,” Spike said, and he looked as if he was going to throw her over his shoulder again, but she raised her hands and bowed her head, thinking that there was more than one way to skin a felis-cat.
“It’s okay, Spike. You’re right. I am just a woman and what you’re doing is far too dangerous for a little thing like me to be involved with. Even though I’m a Slayer. I’ll go with Clem and let him look after me while you go do your manly thing and rescue my Watcher. Then you can come back and sweep me off my feet and…” she moved closer and rubbed herself against his side. Her hip was against his thigh as she shimmied up and down. “You can make love to me.”
“Sounds like you’ve found the perfect woman,” Clem said breezily.
For a moment Spike’s eyes had darkened with so much desire that Buffonia really thought he’d fallen for it. But it was clear that the bonding had ended any hopes she might ever have of hiding anything from him.
“Bullshit. Lead the way, Clem.”
“Spike, how can you even think you’d get away with this kind of behaviour in this day and age?” Buffonia would have stamped her foot, but Spike was dragging her too fast for that. “It’s star-date 36 47.54, if you haven’t noticed. Anyone would think Queen Valeria was still on the throne.”
“Well, at least women did what they were told back then.”
“That’s sexist, Spike.”
“Yep, you got me there.”
Clem chuckled at the exchange and produced a large key from somewhere in his ragged coat. The house was a rocky, cave-like affair with a heavy wooden door. Clem swung it open and preceded them inside, apologising profusely for the untidy state of the interior. “Maybe she can do a little housework while she’s here?” Clem asked hopefully.
Both Spike and Buffonia looked pointedly at him. “Okay, maybe not,” Clem said cheerfully. “What do you want me to do with her, Spike?”
“Just keep her here. Be back as soon as I can.”
“And how do I do that?”
Spike looked around. “Where’s the cage gone?”
“You have got to be joking.” Buffonia yanked her arm free. “Look, I’ve said I’ll stay. There’s no need for this.”
She backed across the room, aware that Clem was rooting in a drawer. And that Spike was listening hard, and not just with his ears. She could feel him all around her, even though he wasn’t touching her. So she filled her mind with puppies and kittens and flowers instead of thoughts of foolhardy heroism, almost laughing out loud at Spike’s sudden confused look. He tilted his head and studied her, his sincerity-meter on high alert. Finally he pressed his lips together and nodded.
“Don’t be cross with me, love. Couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you. Just want to keep you safe.”
That part she did understand, and she ached to go to him and hold him. Put him out of the misery so plainly written on his face. But if she did that he’d know that she had no intention of staying behind. From now on they were in this together, only, of course, he was far too stubborn to see that.
“Go,” she said softly, all the while reciting in her head the story of a dog who’d spent five earth years sitting on its master’s grave. Spike gave her an even more confused look and raised his hand toward her face. Using willpower she didn’t know she possessed, Buffonia stepped back and waved him away. “The sooner you go, the sooner you can come back for me.”
Spike dropped his hand. “You’ll be safe here. Clem’s okay, and nobody will think to look for you here.”
“I’m sure he is.” Her hands were firmly clasped together now, to stop herself grabbing him by the shirt and kissing the life out of him. With a small flick of her fingers, she motioned him away and he turned resolutely and strode out of the door. Just at that moment Clem finished his noisy search of the drawer and triumphantly held up the thing he’d been looking for.
“There you go,” he announced. “Handcuffs. Just pop these on, Buffonia, and then I’ll open us a bag of corn chips. Do you like soaps, by the way? Oh, and so long, Spike.” He gave Spike’s retreating figure a cheery wave. “Have fun, and don’t you…”
Clem hadn’t seen her coming, or heard her muttering her invocation of the Force. Buffonia almost felt sorry for him since he seemed such a nice guy, but all was fair in love and war. She heard Clem say something that sounded suspiciously like bugger before she muttered an apology and disappeared out the back entrance. Leaving him standing there in his own front-room, handcuffed to the leg of the dining table.
----------------------------------------------------------
What else could he do? Spike strode determinedly back to the Bug hating what he’d just done, but knowing it was the right thing.
Laughing about this whole foolhardy mission wasn’t a very appropriate reaction either, particularly since every time he ventured into space these days he seemed to be tempting fate big-time, but he couldn’t help smiling at her anger. All red-faced and righteous indignation. Eyes ablaze with passion. Rubbing absently at the front of his pants he wondered if either of them were going to survive being away from the other for any length of time, and he chuckled again as the same thought filtered through from her.
Won’t be long, he muttered. And he thought he heard her say, hurry back, but how could he, when she was at Clem’s and he was now standing outside the best spicy wings take-out in the galaxy? The smell was irresistible so he searched his pockets for some of the small manufactured diamonds that Clem’s people used as currency, and pushed open the door. He sniffed again, wondering, not for the first time just exactly which animal the wings came from. Not that he was squeamish about that sort of thing what with being a Vampirian, but they were pretty odd-looking wings.
He ordered two extra-large family buckets, since Chewie’s appetite constituted a family in itself, and made his way back to the Bug. Torsion, force, speed, velocity, his brain was already churning over the options and doing the math. For a brief moment, he forgot all about Buffonia and turned his mind instead to the huge problem of disengaging the Watcher’s ship from the clutches of the Vampirian cruiser. With the hyperdrive properly in place it would have been a piece of cake, but this, with the Bug in the state that it was, would require more than a bit of creativity and nerve to pull it off.
Then he was going to marry her properly. His thoughts inevitably turned back to Buffonia. And not just because it would have been impossible not to think of her. Mainly it was because as he’d approached the Bug, she’d hit him full-force. Not physically, although she was quite probably going to do that when she decided to appear from where she was hiding.
Spike stepped cautiously onto the ramp and cocked his head. Her scent was still strong, even above the compelling smell of the spicy wings. Chewie stuck his head out of his cabin door, a look of glee crossing his face when he spotted the buckets tucked under each of Spike’s arms. Spike handed them over absently, and followed the Buffonia’s trail.
She wasn’t in the rec room, or the cockpit and his cabin would have been far too obvious a place for her to hide. And she was hiding, if her racing heart was anything to go by. He stopped again and closed his eyes only to be met with what sounded suspiciously like a hysterical giggle. Okay, now he had her. They may be connected on a higher level now, but he was still a Vampirian, and would always have that advantage over her. Like a wraith-spirit, he moved silently to the false wall-panel, behind which he usually hid smuggled goods, but which was, right now, hiding one on-the-verge-of-hysteria, Slayer.
He couldn’t resist. And it was evil, and totally inappropriate to the seriousness of the moment since they were probably both about to go kill themselves rescuing her stupid Watcher, but hey, Vampirian here. With a flourish, he pulled back the panel and shouted boo, rather more loudly than he intended. But nowhere near as loud as Buffonia’s ear-splitting scream as she jumped, nearly out of her skin.
--------------------------------------------------
“I don’t believe she’s coming.” C I fussed with the controls, because it made him look important, and he liked that. Turning to R U, he cocked his head. “Mark my words, we’re doomed,” he said gravely.
R U beeped.
“No,” C I said, with more than a hint of impatience in his voice. “It is not cool, not in the slightest. Do you know what the Vampirians do to droids? They don’t care about them, you know. They’ll probably use you as a drinks trolley.”
R U appeared to consider the possibility and flashed the small lights that looked like ears, if a droid could be considered to have ears.
C I sighed dramatically. “You’re so naïve,” he said wearily. “Believe me, we’ll be scrap metal before the fifth sunrise if the Vampirians get hold of us.”
R U reminded him, in that cheerful, yet insistent way he had, that the Vampirians already had a tight enough hold on them, thank you very much. And what was the fuss all about anyway?
“Really, R U,” C I chided. “Where have you been for the last nine chapters? Princess Buffonia is the Slayer, and our beloved master, for some strange reason, needs her co-operation. But she’s allied herself to that loveable rogue, Spike who’s wanted by Jasmine.”
R U raised what could have been his eyebrows, C I hadn’t worked that one out yet.
“No, it’s not that simple. Do you realise just how many beings are after the two of them?
R U obviously didn’t because he was just a simple computer-buddy droid. C I, on the other hand was the elite of droids. Why, he even looked like a humanoid, in very bad light. “I’ve been fornicating with them since the Vampirians caught us,” he said, pompously. “Confusing them, putting them off the scent. Our beloved Master wants nothing to interfere with his plan, hair-brained though it undoubtedly is.
“Well, of course I’m going to give you an update,” he said at R U’s questioning whistle. “Look, there they all are. And, what a lot of fun that’s going to be when they all end up in the same room.” He pointed to the flashing screen.
“That’s the Bounty Hunter, Wood. He’s waiting on Parasis for the Watcher to deliver Spike to him, only, of course, our Master has no intention of doing that. This is Prince Sleepwalker’s ship. We have that in a holding pattern around Setti 4. The Master has managed to convince him that Buffonia is down there somewhere, so we won’t be hearing from them for while. And those twenty or so ships heading for the other side of the galaxy are bounty hunters too, all after the rewards on Buffonia and Spike.
“Yes, I know they’re chasing the wrong ship, that was precisely the plan. And,” he peered closely at the screen, more for effect than anything. “By the looks of things they’re not going to be in this part of the story either.”
R U whistled again, indicating a rather important-looking blue light that was gliding serenely amongst the frenzy of spaceships.
“That, my dear boy, is our arch-nemesis. If I’m not mistaken, and I never am, that’s The Royal Yacht with none other than The Empress, aka The Dark Lady on board. With no doubt, the real power behind the throne, Darth Angel, at her side.” He shook his head. “We’re doomed, I tell you. Doomed.”
Leaning forward, he whispered. “Between you and me, R U, I believe the Master has gone totally barmy.”
R U beeped again.
“No,” C I said with barely controlled impatience. “It is most certainly not cool.”
Tbc…
[Reviews - 40]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 1278 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +