Chapter 7
The cabin was spinning.
“Why’s it doing that? Riley asked weakly.
“Doing what, sir?”
“Spinning. The cabin is spinning.” Riley clutched his cuddly Wookie to his chest, as if the toy could anchor him down in a world that was visibly revolving.
“It’s not spinning, sir.” The guard looked around, frowning. “No, not at all.”
Riley nodded and pushed himself into a sitting position. His face, when he caught sight of it in the mirror, was a delicate shade of ash-grey indicating that he was going to be violently sick any moment now.
“The bowl,” he said opening his knees and flopping his head forward. “I’m going to…”
The guard scrabbled to do his bidding, only just making it before Riley very indelicately threw up.
“Think I’ll just lie here and have a little nap,” Riley told him. “Space travel, you see. Doesn’t agree with me. I just wasn’t made to travel at this speed. Delicate constitution and all that.”
“Sorry to hear that, sir.” The guard held the bowl at arms length, a look of disgust twisting his features. “Why don’t you just go to sleep and let us deal with the Princess?”
Riley groped for his Wookie and closed his eyes. “What a good idea,” he said drowsily. “You’ll be sure to wake me so I can do the sweeping off the feet part?”
“Of course, sir. Don’t you worry about that. We’ll have her all lined up and ready for you in no time. You just lie there and get some rest, your Highness. Lift off won’t be for some time yet.
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“Vampirians do that face-thing, don’t they?”
Spike handed Buffonia a mug of very strong coffee-syrup and sat next to her on the bench. “Here,” he said. Get that down you. It’ll make you feel better.” The colour was returning, but she still looked a little too pale for the Buffonia he knew.
“Thanks.” She took the cup and stared into it. “Can you do it, Spike?”
“Yeah, I can do it. Bit hit and miss though.”
“Could you show me?”
“If you want me to. Don’t want to scare you.”
She smiled at that and took a sip of her drink, wrinkling up her face at the bitter taste. “Guess I’m going to see worse than your vampire-face before I’m done finding myself.”
“Guess you are. Tell you what, I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours. How does that sound?”
“Think I already showed you mine.”
“I was talking about Slayers,” Spike said trying not to remember how she’d looked when she’d flashed him in his cabin. It was impossible, of course. Now, every time he looked at her he saw pretty little breasts which he already knew would fit his hands perfectly. “Aren’t Slayers supposed to have super-powers, or something?”
“They were supposed to kill Vampirians.” She looked up, her gaze frank and open. “Whenever you come near me I get this tingling feeling all across my shoulders and back.”
“And I can hear you from the other side of the ship, and smell you.” Spike gazed back at her.
“Then I guess we’ll never be able to sneak up on each other.”
“True. So, what are they?”
“My super-powers? I’ve no idea, strength maybe.”
“But the Jedi is pretty keen to get his hands on you. Must be a reason why.”
Buffonia looked away. “I’m not going with him, Spike.” She laughed. “Feels strange calling you that. I’d kind of got used to William.”
Spike’s arm was around her before he’d even given it a thought. A spontaneously possessive gesture. “Not letting him have you. Don’t worry, Jedi Watcher-class ships really are piles of junk. Once we get the hyperdrive fixed he’ll never catch us.”
“But he’s a Jedi, Spike. He’ll use the Force to track us.”
“It’s a load of mumbo-jumbo, Buffonia. I’ve seen a lot of strange things, but I don’t believe there’s some all-knowing Force controlling my destiny. I make my own luck, and so can you.”
“Do you really think so?”
Buffonia wriggled so that her ear was over his heart. With one hand flat against his chest she listened and he kept very still and enjoyed simply holding her. Even though he was hotly fantasising what the rest of her body looked like, the big reveal had gone some way to diffusing the UST that had built up between them and he felt in better control now.
“Is it strange not being able to feel your heart beat?”
“Stranger when I can.”
“Spike, who’s Jasmine?”
Buffonia seemed content to lie in his arms, so he leaned back and settled them both into the corner of the seat. It was peaceful, sitting there with her soft weight against his side and the smell of her hair in his nostrils. He’d despaired of ever being able to be normal around her and it was nice to know he could sit with her like this and not want to shag her silly. He still did want to do that, of course, but not to the exclusion of everything else like he had with most women. Most women being every woman other than Dru up till now.
“Jasmine.”
“You don’t mind me asking?”
“You’ve got a right to know what you’re getting yourself in for. If you’re planning on sticking around, that is. Wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to jump ship after you hear this.”
“Do you mind if I stay? Just for a little while. I’ll work, like I said I would.”
“Stay as long as you like.” Spike tightened his grip at the thought of her leaving. “Only promise me you’re not going to go be a bounty hunter. Not letting you go until you promise that.”
He didn’t know what to make of her silence so he continued with the Jasmine thread. “Jasmine wasn’t one of my better plans, put it that way.”
“But why do you have to marry her?”
“Because sometimes I’m too full of bullshit for my own good. Long and short of it, I knew she fancied me so I talked her into loaning me a huge amount of cash. Which I’ve spent on a major up-grade for the ship. I can’t pay it back, so she’s demanding payment in kind.”
A small hand reached up and touched his cheek. “You save me from that creepy watcher guy, I’ll save you from Jasmine, deal?”
“And how are you going to do that?”
“I’ll use my Slayer super-powers. As soon as I find out what they are.”
“You going to go ten rounds with Jasmine?”
“If I have to, yes.”
Looking down at her at that moment, all softly draped across his lap, Spike found his resolve not to shag her silly slipping rapidly. Instead he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.
“Thanks, love. Appreciate the offer, but I’d rather have you in one piece.”
A giggle escaped her when his lips touched her hand. “The hero does that in one of my novels.”
“You read a lot of those books do you?” He did it again, causing more giggles, then a small gasp when he turned her hand over and ran his tongue over her palm. “Does he do this too?”
Buffonia nodded mutely, her eyes never leaving his face. “We’re not supposed to know about stuff like that. Bodice-Rippers aren’t exactly politically correct.”
“And now you do?”
“It’s one of the reasons I left.”
“Apart from wanting to get away from the Watcher?”
“They were marrying me off.”
“Ahh.” It should have been funny that they were both fighting the same dilemma, but things were a little too desperate for laughter.
“To Prince Riley Sleepwalker.”
Now he did laugh. “That git?” And then he made the connection. “Bloody hell, you’re Princess Buffonia.”
“Was Princess Buffonia. That’s not me any more.”
“Right pair we make, eh?”
“Why did you kiss me, Spike?”
“Because I wanted to. Didn’t mean to hurt you. The vampire thing just sort of happens when you’re around.” His hand moved to the back of her neck, then he thought the better of it. The last thing he needed now was to be gazing at the lovely, tempting line of her neck.
“You didn’t. Spike, show it to me.”
“You’re sure?”
Buffonia sat up and touched his face again. “I’ve seen films and stuff, but I’d like you to show me. You won’t scare me, don’t worry.”
Spike breathed, because sometimes it just felt right to do so. Nothing like a good deep breath for relieving tension. “Okay,” he said, hoping he could control it. “Gotta warn you, it’s not pretty.”
“Let me be the judge of that. How do you do it?”
“Like this.” Spike shook his head and Buffonia jumped back in the seat.”
“Like what?”
Spike rubbed a hand over his face, already aware that nothing had happened. Which was very odd given Buffonia’s proximity. He tried again and still, no game face.
“Don’t understand it,” he said feeling a prickle of ironic anxiety. “Never had this problem around you.”
“Don’t do it if you’re not comfortable, William, I mean Spike.” Buffonia laid a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”
“You haven’t. I want to show you.” He felt his gums which were decidedly un-achey. “Are you sure nothing’s happening?”
“Sorry.” Buffonia shook her head and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Perhaps you need to relax a bit?”
Spike’s laugh was more than a little hysterical. “Performance anxiety? That’s got to be a first.”
“Can I do anything to help?”
Spike squinted down at her hand, which was now rubbing light circles around his shoulder. “You could keep doing that.”
Buffonia twisted her self so she was facing him and brought her other hand up to his neglected shoulder. “Like this?” she asked sweeping them down and across his chest with every stroke. Spike felt a familiar stirring down below, but his vampire face was as far away as it had ever been.
“May I?” he said holding up a hand towards her own shoulder. She nodded her agreement her fingers still moving in increasingly sensuous circles. Spike sucked on his bottom lip and watched fascinated as she became completely absorbed in what she was doing. His own hand slipped lower, tracing a line across the front of her shirt to the top curve of her breasts, his gaze flicking to her face to see if she minded. Not that he needed to see her to feel her unspoken consent. Her breath may have caught, and her heartbeat climbed up a gear when he’d started touching her, but he could feel her silently urging him on.
“Is anything happening,” she said in wispy voice.
“Plenty, love.” Spike looked down, pointedly. “Unfortunately not in the vampire-features department.”
Blushing suited her. And she’d obviously been reading way too many of her bodice-rippers, as she’d called them, since she seemed to immediately know what he was referring too. Bodice-rippers. He liked that expression. It conjured up at least some of the things he wanted to do to her. Or rather with her, since he’d never force himself on her.
“Prince Boring kiss you, did he?”
Prince Boring? She mouthed the words back to him, silently, a small grin spreading across her features. “No, the Prince of Boring never did kiss me.”
“So.” He said it casually, conversationally. “I was the first, was I?”
“I kissed you, as I remember.”
“And I kissed you back. I definitely remember that.”
She didn’t answer because he’d filled his hand with her breast at which point she’d closed her eyes and exhaled softly.
Okay, he thought, at least there was nothing wrong in the below-the-belt department. He still couldn’t understand why no game-face, but the hell he was going to complain about that when she made him feel like this.
“Would you like me to do it again?”
“Huh?” she half opened her sleepy eyes.
“Kiss you. May I kiss you again?”
“Oh. Yes.” Buffonia tipped back her head and offered herself. “Yes, please, kiss me.”
“Oh, Buffonia.” Spike growled and attacked the buttons of her shirt with clumsy fingers. “You’re so bloody irresistible. Do you know that? You get me so hard.”
“Spike.”
The buttons fell open and his desperate fingers sought out her beautiful curves sweeping the lacy cups of her bra to circle each breast. His mouth frantically seeking out hers.
“Spike, you’re changing.”
“Shit, not now.” He pulled back and ran a hand across his forehead, but the fangs were already cutting through his tender gums. And there was Buffonia, spread out on the bench, all flushed and ready, her clothing awry. A look of mild alarm on her face. It took all his willpower not to continue with what they’d been doing. Only now he really did want to rip her clothes off so it was that much harder to stop.
“No, don’t turn away.” She followed him as he scooted to the far end of the bench and caught hold of his shirt.
“I knew it would scare you.”
“What this?” Again, her touch was light and gentle. She mapped out the bumps and ridges, that were just as unfamiliar to him as to her, with gently caressing fingertips, running them carefully over his fangs. While he trembled with the effort it took to keep still and let her find out what he really was. “It’s not this that scares me, Spike.”
“Oh?” He breathed a relaxing breath and his vampire features melted away.
Buffonia was staring towards the window into the blackness of space. “Out there. That scares me. The Vampirian invasion threat. Him, that creepy watcher-guy, he scares me. And this.” She looked down and her disarrayed clothing. This scares the hell out of me.”
“That?” Spike looked to the window too. “Best thing we can do is run away.” But this.” Leaning towards her he straightened her shirt and started on the buttons. “I can do something about. You’re never to feel scared around me, Buffonia. Tell me you never will.”
“I’m sorry Spike.” She looked down, watching his fingers as he worked on closing the buttons. “You were expecting to have sex with me, but it’s all happening too fast. I don’t know what to do, or what to feel about it. Are you very cross with me?”
“Say it.”
“You don’t frighten me, Spike. It’s me I’m scared of, not you.”
Patience wasn’t a virtue he’d wasted time cultivating. Spike liked to go in hard and fast, take and then leave. It was why he went for the high security smuggling jobs – waiting around for days playing mind games wasn’t his idea of fun. Taking risks? Out-running an Imperial star-ship? Now that got the juices flowing.
And until Dru, if a woman wasn’t immediately interested, then he’d just move on. There were plenty of fish in the universal sea and he’d had his share. Falling in love with Dru had been a painful experience. While she’d been content to saunter along in the slow lane, he’d been racing away with plans for their future together. Once you’d established that you loved someone, what was the point in waiting? You told them, you got married, you raised little ones. It was the first time he’d ever felt that way and continually having to brake so she could catch up with his train of thought had almost driven him mad.
But patience was what he needed now. In his mind he saw himself as a small boy on St. Vigius Day ripping open all his presents in a frenzy of anticipation. Toys already broken at the end of the night. Books already read. So that for the rest of the festival there was nothing else to look forward to. Firing all his guns at once was exciting, for a very sort time, which was fine until he remembered the ominous silence that inevitably followed.
Buffonia was a gift he needed to unwrap slowly. Layer by layer, bit by bit revealing who she was, what she wanted and where she wanted to go. The boy turning into a girl with a crown of golden hair, who’d turned into a princess. Who was really a Slayer and would one day be a woman.
And what did she want? Possibly a mixture of a poet and a pirate, he guessed. A scoundrel who would carry her off, then dazzle her with his eloquence.
“I have to admit to a little frustration.” He said it in a light-hearted tone, touching the front of his pants so she’d get the reference. “Well, more than a little, actually, but I’m not cross with you. Why should I be?”
“Because you need to have sex.” She looked pointedly down at his crotch then back up at him. “And I think I’ve led you to believe I’d give it to you. And now I’m too nervous to do it, and…”
At that point he put her out of her misery with a quick kiss. When he sat back she was still gazing at him, a little dazed now by the twists and turns. “Buffonia. Of course I want to have sex with you, what man wouldn’t? And I know I’m an impetuous kind of guy, but hey, some things are too good to rush, yeah?”
“I think I have a lot to learn.”
“You’re going to be a natural. Buffonia, when did you lose your virginity?”
He knew why she looked so startled at the question, but again he stopped her giving the answer she had on the tip of her tongue. “No, tell me, it’s a serious question,” he said. “You know what I’m asking?”
She frowned, then a light of realisation dawned and she pulled up her knees to her characteristic pose and looked away. “Well, it was swift and sudden, the initial attraction, that was. But the trouble was that all I had to compare him with was a fantasy. And I was so desperate for it, I didn’t stop and think about what I was doing. But he was kind and sweet, under his very manly exterior, of course, and he gave me all the time I needed to learn everything I wanted to know. And yeah, there were candles, and music, and poetry and an impossibly starry night. And it was perfect.”
By the end of her speech, her voice had almost disappeared to nothing, but vampire hearing caught it all. “When?” he asked, just as quietly.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “Soon, maybe?” Then she brightened and turned back to him. “What about you?”
“In the janitor’s closet with my physics teacher.”
Buffonia let out a nervous laugh and shook her head. “Why doesn’t that surprise me, Spike?”
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“I’ll have them soon, old man. Do you want me to bring them in?”
“Old man?” the Watcher snorted. “I’ll have you know I’m still young enough to get carded.”
Wood continued configuring the tractor beam. Weight, mass, he already knew the pulling force needed to bring in the Millennium Bug. And once he had her in his clutches, she was going nowhere, ever again. The Principal had the standard Bounty Hunter upgrades; Super-torsion, which gave it some of the best pulling power in its class, photon torpedoes, secure cells and a state-of-the-art carbon-freeze facility for easy transport of the wanted to the delivery point.
“So what do you want me to do?” Wood leaned back into his chair and inspected his nails, his demeanour deceptively calm.
“It’s too soon.” The Jedi’s image shimmered on the view-screen. “I need them nearer to Vampiria. Don’t do anything impulsive, Wood.”
I see no reason to wait. What if they get away? I’m going in, and don’t worry, you’ll get your girl safe and sound, I’m only interested in him.”
“Listen to me, you fool.” The Jedi pulled him self upright. “You don’t want to go in, you want to do as I tell you.”
Wood laughed. “Your mind-games don’t work on me, old man, what kind of simpleton do you take me for?”
“There’s more at stake here than your petty revenge, Wood. If you move too soon, you’ll ruin everything.”
Wood leaned towards the console and flicked a switch. The Jedi’s image shimmered and faded away. The bounty hunter turned and stared into the blackness of space. “Nothing is more important than revenge,” he said in quiet, measured tones. “Nothing.”
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O B turned to C I. The robot’s eyes lit up in greeting.
“What can I do for you, master?”
“Wood, he’ll serve his purpose, but he’s impetuous. Can you talk to his ship? Jam his transmissions?”
C I tilted his head. “I am fluent in six million forms of fornication. Of course I can talk to his ship.”
O B sighed. Along with the crappy ships, came the crappy, reconditioned droids. “Don’t you mean communication?
“Oh, I’m so terribly sorry, master.” C I put on his contrite expression. “I thought I’d fixed the innuendo malfunction. I’ll put it right immediately.”
“You do that.” O B leaned his elbows on the console and thought. “Tell Wood to follow us at a safe distance, and jam all transmissions from the Bug to the Principal. Damned fool is going to ruin everything if he jumps the gun on this.”
“As you wish, master.” C I turned importantly towards the computer. “Fornicating now.”
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It was good to be off the ship. And even better to be on Moss Iseley, the home of what was most certainly the largest mall in the galaxy. Buffonia loosened her cloak and stared, wide-eyed at the seemingly endless row of shops. Spike undid his long leather coat and pulled off his gloves. The wide-brimmed hat he’d worn to shade himself from the light hung between his shoulders and he looked almost as excited as she did.
“Want to go shopping then?” he asked.
“I thought we had shops on Summeria,” she replied. “But I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“And” Spike tilted his head, as if he’d sensed the hesitation in her tone.
Buffonia patted her pockets. “No money, remember?”
“Oh.” Spike watched her for a moment, then reached into his coat. “Here,” he said extending a handful of credits. “Buy yourself something nice.”
Buffonia raised her hands, palms forward. “No, Spike. You need that to supply the ship and I’m fine with window shopping.”
Spike re-pocketed the money without question and scanned the crowd. “You should be fairly safe here, want to go look around? There’s something I need to do.”
“And I can talk to you on this?” She held up the com-link he’d strapped to her wrist.
“Yeah, just tap the button once for me, three times for Chewie. You sure you’re alright by yourself?”
“Spike,” she said, her eyes already on a designer label boutique. “You’re looking at an expert here. Go do what you need to do and buzz me when you’re ready. I’ll meet you here, yes?”
“Keep your eyes open, yeah?”
“For him?” Buffonia glanced around. “Heck, I’d forgotten all about Mr Creepy. You don’t think he’s here, do you?”
“Chewie did a quick scan back at the landing bays and there weren’t any Watcher- Class ships in. And security’s pretty tight here. As long as you stay visible, you should be okay. Look, I’ve got to do this, but I’ll be really quick.”
“Spike, stop worrying about me. Shoo.” Buffonia flapped her arms at him and he took the hint. She waited until he’d disappeared into the crowd then she applied herself to the serious task of checking out the next season’s fashions. Summerians were renowned for their fashion sense, but if it was in, it would be here first. Moss-Iseley was the centre of it all. It was just a pity she couldn’t use her Palladium credit-card without drawing attention to her whereabouts.
There was a refreshing lack of hairy-turtle-shell wedding dresses, which didn’t surprise her given how rare the raw materials were. And it really did seem as if another person had trampled on a small fortune’s worth of them not so long ago. Summeria had been going all out to impress the Somnambulans and Buffonia had destroyed more than three million credits-worth of wedding dress without giving it a second thought. And now, here she was reduced to window-shopping, safe in the knowledge that she couldn’t even afford to buy a faux-diamond clip to put in her hair.
It didn’t matter. She repeated it as her eyes fell on the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen. Freedom was worth a hundred dresses, and this was her new life. Anything she bought from now on would be bought with the fruits of her own labour. The smell of burnt-orange tea at one of the refreshment stands reminded her that she didn’t even have any money for a drink, nor could she afford anything to eat, which her stomach was telling her to do in earnest now. The beauty salon had her staring with wide-eyed longing at the thought of clean hair and a manicure, and she nearly cried when she saw a Galactic Volcano in the flesh. The ice-cream sundae was legendary, and if Spike had been anywhere about she knew she’d be begging him to buy her one by now.
Yes, it was tough being poor. But it was also a fact of life. She took one last, wistful glance at the ice-cream and walked determinedly away.
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The first thing Spike did was to stop at his favourite barbers and get himself a haircut. The dye was washing out fast, so he didn’t bother with a bleach job to turn it back to its usual platinum. Then he applied himself to the most important task of the day. Chewie was picking up the goods for transportation because Spike hadn’t wanted to leave Buffonia by herself for too long so Spike hurried through his list so he could get back to her. She’d been right in her assumption that the Watcher would use the Force to track them, and Spike knew he wouldn’t be very far behind if he was still determined to grab himself a Slayer.
It wasn’t pink, but it was a pig, of sorts. Spike had no idea what species of pig Mr. Gordo had been, but this would have to do. It was the thought that counted, right? Hopefully, the blue, fluffy toy would go some way towards alleviating Buffonia’s homesickness and encourage her to stay a while. He handed over the credits and slung the bag containing the toy over his shoulder, then he turned his attention to women’s fashions.
Something slinky and sheer, and short. No, long. He couldn’t decide which she’d look best in, but he went for the short because the long dresses looked as if they’d been made for someone the size of a female Wookie and he didn’t have time to shop around. It was a metallic, shimmering green, that would match her eyes perfectly, with thin straps and a scalloped hem. And she was going to look stunning in it. Then he remembered what she’d told him about her fantasy virginity-losing scenario, so he bought a single luminous rose, outrageous cliché be damned.
The first hint he had of trouble was a garbled sound coming from his com-link. But it wasn’t Buffonia who was crying out in pain. Spike slung the bag containing his purchases cross-wise over his chest, wishing he still had his blaster, which he’d had to check in at the security desk when they’d entered.
“Buffonia?” He shouted at his wrist, but there was no answer other than another series of grunting and then Buffonia’s voice using a word he’d never thought to have heard from the lips of one who looked like an angel. It made him smile momentarily, but not for long. She was in trouble, probably with creepy, stalker guy and she needed back-up, fast.
“Chewie?”
The Wookie checked in and swore colourfully at Spike for letting Buffonia go off on her own.
“I know, I know,” he said trying to calm the outraged Wookie. “I shouldn’t have let her go off by herself. I had something important to do, okay. Look, you go east, I’ll go west. Sounds like she’s outside judging by the interference, and that she’s holding her own, for now. Just try and find her quick.”
At that point Spike cut Chewie off and pushed through the crowd in the direction of the west door fully prepared to fight the Watcher to the death for her, if he had to. But fervently hoping it wouldn’t come to that, since the death of a Jedi wouldn’t go un-avenged. The few moments it took him to find her were agonising and full of self recrimination and brought home to him exactly how he’d feel if she wasn’t there any more. True, he hadn’t really got to know her beyond the heavy-duty lusting, but dammit, they’d started something here and he, for one, wanted to see it through. His gut was telling him that she might be finally be the one. And that was something worth fighting for.
When he saw her she wasn’t doing so well. Her assailant, far from being her Watcher, was a full blown Tarrakan. From the Order of Tarraka, no-less. And their motto was, we always get our man. He had her pinned to the ground and was struggling to fix manacles to her wrists.
Spike glanced quickly at the sky, from which shone possibly the brightest sun in the galaxy, and knew he couldn’t go out in that for long without sustaining serious burns. “Chewie,” he snapped into the com-link. Get your ass over to the west door, it’s a bloody Tarrakan and they’re outside. And bring some security with you.”
Chewie signed out and without a second thought Spike jammed his hat onto his head and ran towards the struggling pair, shouting at the top of his voice.
“Oi, you slimy bastard, wanna fight something your own size?”
The Tarrakan looked only mildly annoyed at the intrusion. He stood up, dragging Buffonia with him and faced Spike. “Get lost,” he said with a guttural snarl. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Spike tipped back his head, looking up at the monstrous creature and poor Buffonia, who was clamped firmly to the Tarrakan’s side. “I do believe you have my woman there,” he said and pusheded forward the hat since looking up meant looking into the sunlight. “Give her back, would you?”
The Tarrakan opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a grunt of pain as Buffonia lashed out with her elbow. She fell to the ground and he turned to her, hand flat, arm raised. Spike jumped up and caught the backhander in mid-air, shouting to Buffonia to run away while he hung on to the Tarrakan’s arm for grim death. He didn’t catch what she shouted back and instead of running she spun herself around, and landed the Tarrakan another blow, with her foot this time, squarely in his stomach. It didn’t make much of an impression, but it distracted him enough to allow Spike to attach himself to the creature’s legs and bring him down.
By which time, Spike was feeling seriously warm.
“Get inside.” Buffy shouted to him and through his stinging, watery eyes he could see her squaring up for another round.
“No, you run,” he countered and threw himself on top of the creature. His hat had already fallen off and the back of his neck was smarting as the sun’s rays hit it, but he knew that if the Tarrakan got up, they were done for.
And dammit, Buffonia wasn’t about to do as she was told, either. Her cry of ”may the force be with me, made them both look up and then he spotted Chewie hot-footing it across the landing bay with several burly security guards in tow. Buffonia got another kick in before the Tarrakan thought the better of continuing the fight. Pushing Spike roughly onto the ground he rolled, grabbed his weapon and legged it. Chewie and the security guards chased after him as he weaved in and out of the parked vehicles and Buffonia scrabbled for Spike’s hat.
“Put it on,” she said jamming the crown onto his head. “And get yourself out of the sun. Come on.”
Spike needed no more telling. He took her hand and let her half-drag him into the shade where they stood together and processed what had just happened. Buffonia was breathing hard, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with excitement.
“Did you see that, Spike? The way I kicked him? And that noise he made. How cool was that?”
Spike flexed his hands, working out the tightness the sun’s rays had caused. Sliding an arm around her waist, he flopped back against the wall. “Do you know what that thing was?”
“Big and smelly?”
Spike dropped his forehead to her shoulder and waited for his equilibrium to return. “I swear you’re going to give me a heart-beat, Princess Buffonia. “You just took on a Tarrakan, that’s all.”
Her hand slid to the back of his neck, lightly caressing. “So, is this Slayer power impressive, or what?”
“Very love.” Spike rubbed his cheek against her shoulder, enjoying the soothing feel of her fingers on him. “What I want to know is why a member of the Order of Tarraka should be interested in you?”
Gently she lifted his face and surveyed it for sun damage. “You’ll live,” she reported with a cheerful smile. “So what’s this order of Tarraka?”
“Only the most dedicated bounty hunters and assassins in the galaxy. Is there something you’re not telling me? He watched her face carefully as she frowned.
“Then why are bounty-hunters after you?”
“You don’t think the Jedi sent him?”
Spike shook his head. “Naa, don’t think so. Tarrakans only play with the big boys – the Watcher wouldn’t be able to afford the kind of reward they would demand.”
“The ratbags!”
“I already said, I don’t think it was the Watcher.” Spike looked up to see Chewie loping towards them.
“Not talking about the Watcher, I’m talking about the Somnambulans, or my parents. I bet they’ve offered a huge reward to get me back.”
“Maybe.” Spike raised his eyebrows enquiringly at Chewie who growled back. It still didn’t fit. The Order of Tarraka were the seediest part of the galaxy’s underbelly and there was no way Buffonia’s family would want them anywhere near her.
“I did well, though?” It was a question, not a statement and she was looking at him intently now, some of the elation fading from her face.
“Yeah, you did well love. Can’t wait to see what you do when you really get the hang of this Force, business.”
They turned for the mall once more since the Millennium Bug was docked in the east parking lot. When they’d collected their weapons. Spike handed his blaster to Buffonia.
“Here” he said helping her to sling it across her chest. “You carry this, and get used to it. Don’t want you going anywhere public without a weapon, from now on. First convenient place, I’m going to show you how to use if properly.” It made him feel better to see her armed, although he needed to get her a custom-built one, when they could afford it.
“It’s sweet of you, Spike.”
She accepted it without protest but he could tell she thought he was over-reacting. And he didn’t want to worry her yet, so he kept the seriousness of the situation to himself. “Giving someone a weapon isn’t exactly sweet, love.” He slipped his hand into hers and lengthened his stride because he needed to get her inside, and himself out of the sun. “Want you to be able to use that if you have to.”
“But the Force, Spike.” She was having to trot to keep up.” I’ve never felt such power. I could have taken him, I know I could have.”
When they got to the Bug he pressed the remote commander to extend the steps from the side of the ship. Chewie went straight to the hold to stabilise the extremely small, but wickedly valuable cargo and Spike hoped desperately it hadn’t been damaged in the fight since the Klum-Fei weren’t exactly the most forgiving of creatures. When Buffonia moved towards the rec room he stopped her.
“Have my cabin,” he said and steered her towards it before she could protest. “No string attached. You could probably use a good’s night’s sleep.”
“But what about you, Spike?”
He nearly suggested it, the thing he really wanted to do, but sharing a bed with her would crumble all his resolve to go as slow, to dust. Especially in the light of what had happened in the galley. Just the thought of her in his bed was making him twitch.
“I’ll be fine in the rec room.” She looked a little disappointed, at least that’s what he told himself the droop of her mouth indicated. Or it might just have been delayed shock from what had happened back at the mall. Despite her bravado, and her increasing strength, she wouldn’t have won that one if he and Chewie hadn’t appeared when they did. “Buff,” he said caressing her soft cheek with his palm. “You never made me that promise.”
“What promise?”
“That you wouldn’t go off and do something reckless.”
“I can’t promise you that, Spike.” Her eyes narrowed as she rested her head in his hand. It was both a surrender and a challenge. “I’m sure I’m going to do many reckless things now that I’m my own boss.”
“I don’t want you going around thinking you can take creatures like that Tarrakan back there, because you can’t.” It was worry for her safety that made his voice come out just that little sharper than he’d intended. And the certain knowledge that whatever he said would make no difference to this stubborn young lady, who’d managed, in what seemed like a blink of an eye, to make him care for her more than he cared for himself. If she wanted to go how was he going to stop her? The thought further increased his panic.
She was trying to make light of it, but he could sense her confusion. Freedom, after years of being a caged bird must be intoxicating for her. Add to that the power of the Force and right now he understood how she might want to go out and take on the whole galaxy. But she lacked the most important ingredient of all – experience, and that failing was going to get her killed.
“I’m not letting you go be a bounty hunter, so don’t even think about it. It ain’t going to happen.” Spike stared directly into her eyes, challenging her back and making sure she saw he that he meant it.
She laughed again. “I love your hair like that. Can I use your shower? I’m so smelly it’s untrue.”
“Buffonia.” Spike gritted his teeth. “I will stop you. I’ll tie you up if I have to.”
There was an embarrassed silence during which Spike guessed they were both probably thinking the same thing.
“Didn’t figure you for the cave-man type, Spike,” she said, at last. “Thought you’d be all about equal opportunities for women.”
“You want equal rights to get yourself killed?”
“If it’s what I want to do, yes.”
“Even if it hurts me too?”
It was a low blow and she recoiled from it with a panicked glance. So, naturally, he pressed home his advantage. “You get the freedom, but it comes with a bucket-load of responsibility, love. You can’t just swan around thinking of no-one but yourself.”
“Why not?” She looked genuinely surprised at his statement. “You do.”
“Did, Buffonia. As in not any more.” He raised his eyebrows.
“Oh.”
“Got you to worry about now, love. And even more so after what happened at the mall. And the thought of you out there, all alone bloody scares me to death.”
“I’m not going anywhere, but to the shower, how’s that?” she said, her tone still lightly teasing. “And I promise not to do anything stupid while I’m in there, okay?”
Every experience changes a person and she was growing up right in front of his eyes. And she’d carry on increasing in confidence and strength until one day, she’d be his equal, he had no doubt about that. There was one area though where he way ahead of her, and it was the only way he could think of to knock the smug little smile off her face and make her understand that she ought to listen to him because he knew what he was talking about.
So he kissed her. It wasn’t restrained, or polite, and it forgot all about going slow and good old fashioned courting. Sheer stubbornness kept him in human face as he crushed his mouth against hers and the battle of wills dissolved into an age-old dance. He found himself smiling against her mouth when she rose to his challenge and gave back in kind. It made him kiss her even more passionately, staying one step ahead of her so that she was breathless with trying to keep up with him. She tried though and he almost conceded defeat at one point, wanting nothing more than to bow at the feet of his brave warrior-princess and worship her. But he didn’t. This wasn’t a battle for dominance, but he did need her to hear what he had to say.
When he finally let her go she looked so dazed he thought she was going to fall down. He stepped back, with difficulty, wishing desperately that he could just hold her now, and watching her touch two fingers lightly to her lips. He wasn’t playing fair and the accusation was there, in her eyes as she gazed reproachfully up at him. She had a lot to learn, and she knew it, but he felt like the worst kind of cad for rubbing her face in it, even though he was doing it for her own good.
And he’d more than made his point so he gave in to the temptation and gathered her close. She felt lost as she clung to him and he wanted to kick himself for his heavy-handed tactlessness. He was supposed to be helping her, not acting out some Lord of the Manor fantasy.
“Sorry love, got a bit carried away there. Didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t.”
“Sure?”
She answered his last question with a nod against his chest and it was then that he remembered the gifts he’d bought her.
“Got you a present,” he said and picked up the bag which he’d dumped at his feet. Pressing the bag into her hands, he said, “go get your shower while I fix us something to eat, yeah? You must be starving.”
She still looked disorientated, like someone who was at the lowest point of an adrenaline crash and he had to wonder what the effects of channelling the Force were on her. That much power going through a body had to take a toll. He closed her fingers around the parcel and gently spun her around. “Go,” he said. “You’ll find a clean towel in the closet, and there’s shampoo and stuff in the shower. Go on,” he urged when she still hadn’t moved. “It’ll make you feel a whole lot better, believe me. Nothing like clean hair to cheer a body up.”
Spike waited outside his cabin door until he heard the shower powering up and then he swiftly made his way to the flight deck. Chewie was already there staring at the computer screen.
“What did you find?”
Chewie hit hard-copy and there she was, smiling back at them from the printout. Spike picked up the sheet and scanned it, the bad feeling he’d had earlier only increasing as he read. DNA coding, full description, photograph, they were all there along with the thing that would have every bounty-hunting scum this side of the universe after her.
“Shit, two-hundred and fifty million credits!”
They were both thinking the same thing, neither of them could help the brief, but tempting thought that here was the answer to their money worries for now, and for a long time into the future. The two of them shook their heads as they simultaneously rejected the idea.
And there was worse to come. Chewie pointed to the name at the bottom of the sheet.
Vampirian High Council.
Spike shook his head in disbelief. “Why do the Vampirians want her?”
Chewie suggested that they do some research.
“It’s got to do with her being a Slayer, but how? Why does the Big Poofter want Buffonia so badly that he’d pay a small fortune for her?
Chewie had already turned back to the computer.
“Find out everything you can about Slayers and Vampirians, Chewie. And let’s get the hell out of here and do that drop as quickly as we can. A reward like this is going to have every asshole this side of the galaxy after us. And the bloody Klum-Fei didn’t set up my credit line, so I couldn’t put the supply order in. Sorted us some water, and a couple of air filters, but we’ll just have to hope they pay up front when we deliver the goods.
Without lifting his head, Chewie gave a soft growl.
“Yeah, I know. Bit too near Vampiria for two reasons now, but Blue Ortega isn’t a cargo we can dump, you know that.”
Chewie didn’t answer. No use in wasting time re-stating the obvious. Spike made his way to the galley, the reward sheet in his hand and a sinking feeling in his heart. He hated it when he could feel his heart. It was the worst reminder that things were wrong. Badly wrong. Darth Angel made Jasmine look like a microbe in comparison. And if he was involved, then things were serious. Deadly serious.
Tbc…
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