CHAPTER 10 - Interruptions
Buffy looked around the crypt then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Everything seemed to be in place. Candles were lit. Floor was clean. Blanket was folded up, ready to be used later. Blood and alcoholic refreshments for Spike in a cooler behind the sarcophagus in the back, along with diet soda for her - wouldn't do to be drunk - and now all she had to do was wait for her potential lover to turn up. By her reckoning, she had maybe another fifteen minutes or so before he made an appearance and she felt her nerves jangle in anticipation.
Willow's idea to trick Spike into coming out to the secluded tomb echoed of the attempt the vampire made to get the Slayer, herself, on a date a couple of months previously.
"Spike will see right through it, Will," Buffy had argued dubiously. "He did almost the exact same thing."
"I know!" the redhead had exclaimed with a huge grin. "That's why he'll never suspect a thing. Trust me. It’ll work like a charm."
“Yeah, a bad luck charm,” Xander had interjected dryly.
“Xander,” Willow had sighed in exasperation.
“No, seriously,” the carpenter had countered. “He’ll either totally ignore it cause he won’t let himself believe it or he realise what you’re trying to do and then ignore it because he’ll think he’s not worthy or something. I say stick with the punching.”
“Xander!” This time both Willow and Buffy said his name in frustration.
“What? I’m right!” He looked to his fiancée. “Right?”
“Yes,” Anya agreed with a nod. “Didn’t you say that you haven’t been physically abusing with him lately? No verbal either?” At the Slayer’s nod, she continued, “Well, I suggest you start if you want him to know how you feel. He probably thinks you’re not interested. You know how vampires react to violence. It’s foreplay.”
“Ok, Ahn, not really the support I was hoping for,” Xander had begun only to be cut off by Buffy’s groan of realisation as Anya’s words jogged her memory of another conversation.
“Of course! Third base! How could I have forgotten?”
“Uh-huh. You need to hit him at the very least,” Anya had commented ignoring Xander. “Although spanking would probably be a better option…”
“I take it all back! Will, your plan sounds great!” Xander had then suddenly enthused, successfully drowning Anya in the process. “Do you need us to do anything?”
Ignoring the ex demon’s scowl, Willow had shook her head. “No, Tara and I will make sure Spike turns up at the crypt and then it’s all down Buffy and her super feminine Slayer wiles to ensnare the angst filled, but still snarky, vampire.”
Buffy stiffened as a sound from outside suddenly forced itself in on her recollection. Holding still for a moment, she relaxed when she realised that it was probably just some animal snuffling around in the overgrown bushes. Letting out a sigh, she mentally ran over her planned greeting for Spike and hoped that would be enough to break the ice. If not then she had a back-up plan that she was absolutely certain…well, very hopeful anyway…would work.
Self consciously smoothing down her skirt, she glanced around the tomb once more then walked over to a sarcophagus in the corner and opened her purse. Pulling out a stake, she clutched it tightly in her hand then turned back to the door and waited for Spike.
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“If one of those vamp’s hasn’t already done her in, I’ll bloody kill her myself,” Spike muttered to himself as he came to a stop outside the entrance of Rosewood cemetery. It was one of the older graveyard’s in Sunnydale and as such, it hardly ever had any beastly goings on, the latter generations of demon much preferring the newer grave sites.
Bringing forth his demon, he entered the sacred ground at a trot and swung his head from side to side sniffing the air for the Slayer’s familiar scent. “Damn nuisance, she is,” he began to mumble to himself again, channelling his fear for her safety into an anger he could use in the fight ahead. “Always going off half-cocked, thinking she’s bloody invincible. Got a soddin’ death wish, that’s what she’s got. Can’t even wait five bleedin’ minutes for me to bleedin’ get here and watch her bleedin’ back!”
A soft breeze wafted through the cemetery and brought the vampire to a sudden halt as a trace of Buffy’s scent reached his nose. Emitting a low growl, he followed her aroma towards the back of the graveyard until he was stood outside a largish crypt. Looking above the door, he saw the name, ‘Sherman’, written in Victorian script and rapidly made his way to the entrance.
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Tingles of sensation ran up her back and exploded pleasurably in her neck as Buffy's 'spidey' sense kicked in, letting her know Spike was somewhere nearby. Why had she never noticed before how different the tingly's were when it was him instead of some random vamp? The fingers of awareness that wrapped around her nerve endings were always so much more rapid in their rush to heighten her alertness, more intense.
Of course, she knew that the reason she’d never noticed was the simple fact that she didn’t want to. Being able to single him out implied that she had feelings that she wasn’t prepared to acknowledge. The same feelings that she once had for the only other vampire in her life she’d been able to recognise the exact same way. Angel.
Thinking of her ex brought a small smile to her face and the knowledge that she still had to tell him about her newfound love. Truth be told, she’d been holding out on calling him because she wasn’t quite sure what to say. He’d left her to be happy with someone ‘normal’, whatever the hell that was, and phoning him to say that she’d fallen for another vampire…not to mention that it was Spike of all people…well, she just knew that that was going to go down like a lead balloon. They hated each other with a vengeance.
The sudden sound of footsteps outside brought her out of her internal ponderings and her grip on the stake she was holding, tightened. Moving closer to the door, she raised the wooden weapon and crouched down slightly, readying herself for his entrance.
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Desperate to get into the crypt and give Buffy whatever back-up she needed, Spike grabbed the handle and gave it a sharp twist, opening the door. Rushing into the dimly lit tomb, the first thing that hit him was the resounding silence which caused him to pull up short in surprise.
The second thing that hit him was an unexpected foot to the chest that sent him sprawling onto the floor of the crypt before he’d barely had any chance to register the lit candles that were dotted around the tomb. Because the attack had caught him unawares, he was unprepared for the impact and let out a loud growl, squeezing his eyes shut in pain as his head cracked harshly against the unrelenting concrete.
Momentarily stunned, he struggled to sit up but was stopped when the weight of someone landed heavily on his stomach, straddling him. Digging their knees into his arms, he then felt a hand wrap tightly around his throat and push him back down to the floor. The tip of a stake being pressed firmly against his chest coincided with him gathering up enough of his scattered wits to recognise the scent of the person that had him pinned.
“Slayer, it’s me!” Spike choked out. His golden eyes shot open in panic and was immediately greeted by the unexpected, but not unwelcome, sight of Buffy’s cleavage as she bent over him.
“Spike?!” she replied in wide eyed surprise.
At least, Spike assumed she was wide eyed. He hadn’t been able to drag his gaze away from the tantalising view of her breasts mere inches from his face. As she breathed, each rise and fall of her chest caused it to strain desperately against a flimsy piece of dark material that she probably called a blouse.
His own body hardened in response as he watched in fascination when she breathed in again. If he just stuck out his tongue he’d be able to run it all the way down that deep cleft…
“I’m sorry,” she said, her contrite voice breaking into his little fantasy. “I thought it was a vamp coming through the door.” She sat up and pulled the stake away from the place above his heart then shifted her legs slightly so that he regained control of his arms once more. “Did I hurt you?”
Disappointment at her removing his view was such that it took Spike a couple of seconds for what she’d said to sink in. When it did, he felt a self-righteous anger slowly start to course through his veins. How dare she sit there and speak to him in that pitying tone. He was a Master Vampire for Christ’s sake! William the Bloody! The Big Bad! Scourge of Europe! Not some weakling ponce of a twit with half a brain. He twisted his demonic visage in disgust. Had it really come to this? Even the Slayer was feeling sorry for him now? The only thing left that could possibly make his unlife completely unbearable right now would be to have the whelp walk in and offer him a hand up! God, he really was a waste of space!
Suddenly fed up with his entire existence, Spike shook out his aching arms and gave a derisive snort. “I don’t need your sympathy.”
“I wasn’t…”
“And I know it’s easy to forget, me being neutered and all, but technically, I am still a vampire, luv.” He pointed to his game face. “Look, fangs and everything.”
“I didn’t mean…”
“And yes, you did bloody well hurt me!” he continued, his voice rising with each sarcastic sentence. “You knocked me over and I cracked my head on the soddin’ floor! It’s not exactly going to tickle, is it?”
“Let me see.”
Before he knew what was happening, she dropped the stake on the ground beside him, bent forward again and placed her hands on either side of his head. Unsure of her intentions exactly, he immediately tensed and was about to open his mouth in protest when her hands started moving. Ever so slowly, she pushed her fingers through his soft blond hair, her touch tender, yet firm, as she checked for any signs of a possible wound.
Of their own accord, Spike’s eyes drifted closed and he felt his demon recede, along with his flare of anger, as he gave himself over to the sensation of her hands gently massaging his scalp.
“Tell me when it hurts,” Buffy murmured.
Spike forced his now blue eyes open and stared back deeply into the hauntingly green depths of those of the woman he loved, trying to read her expression. It was that moment that Spike wondered if the knock to his head was worse than he'd imagined and in reality, he was laying there out cold while the Slayer was bent over him slapping his face…if she'd even bothered to stay at all.
What other possible reason could there be for why she was doing this unless it was all down to his own fevered desires? He didn't deserve her administrations. Especially after the way he'd just spoken to her.
Her fingers continued their gentle movements and his hands curled into fists at his sides as he desperately tried to stop himself from touching her back. This was wrong…so why did it feel so right. 'No!' he told himself firmly, 'Not right. Never right.' He had to stop her. Right now. Before he didn’t have the strength to push her away.
He opened his mouth to say something but, as if sensing his inner turmoil, Buffy purposefully moved her hands around the back of his head. The seemingly casual movement was enough to bring the top half of her body flush against his, sending a jolt of awareness straight to his loins, hardening him even further.
Mouth shutting with a snap as he bit back a groan, his resolve took a further nosedive when her some of her hair fell forward to brush and settle either side of his head, effectively providing a curtain from the outside world. Its clean, fruity aroma mixed in with the scent of the Slayer’s own growing arousal assailed his nostrils, causing them to flare and he fought back the urge to nuzzle into its silky softness.
Not right.
Spike closed his eyes in an effort to try and resist the primal urges that were coursing through his very being but she was everywhere. Her warm breath on his face, her soft touch in his hair, her heated body against his. Opening his eyes, he glanced down in time to see her take another breath, the action forcing her chest to expand. With her surrounding him so completely, it looked, for a moment, as though she were naked. Control finally snapping, his hands began to move. He needed to touch her. Now. And to hell with the consequences.
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Fen tugged on the hand of the beautiful woman that walked alongside him through the cemetery and smiled as she glanced over at him. It had taken him exactly five minutes to persuade her to leave with him. A record, even for his standards. And being a Shilpa demon, her teleportation skills were second to none meaning that they’d reached this secluded graveyard in mere seconds. All in all, not a bad considering how the vampire had slipped through his fingers for a second time not long before.
"Why don't we sit down over here?" he suggested, indicating the bench he and his companion were almost level with.
She gave a small sniffle then nodded her acceptance as she let him lead her to the seat. Once they were settled, she looked at him again and offered a tiny smile. "It's good of you to listen to me," she told him in her softly accented voice.
Fen took in her ethereal countenance; the slight upturn of her yellow eyes, her dainty nose and generous mouth, all capped with long lengths of blonde hair that fell to her waist. She truly was exquisite.
He sighed. "Look at me,” he requested softly. She did as he asked and his gaze locked with hers. “I can do more than listen to you, if you'll let me, Azura," he promised, looking at her intently. “I can make it feel better.” He reached out a hand and gently laid it against her cheek. “Would you let me do that for you?”
She waited a beat then slowly nodded her head. She just wanted her heartache to end.
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Buffy was just beginning to think she was going to have to be even more forward in her advances when she felt Spike’s hands tentatively touch her knee’s.
Finally!
This hadn’t been what she’d planned when she’d knocked him down but the feel of his hard body under her, coupled with the excuse of checking for a head wound, had been too good an opportunity to pass up.
Letting out a soft sigh, she increased the pressure of her hands slightly, silently telling him that she liked what he was doing. In answer, he raised his eyes to hers then pressed his palms more firmly against her stocking clad legs before slowly moving his hands up her thighs until they came in contact with the lacey tops. Eyes widening, his hands paused briefly on their upward path to stroke a thumb caressingly along the raised material causing her breath to hitch and body tremble slightly as her heartbeat picked up even more speed.
His hands continued to roam higher, passed the lace and upwards until they reached the soft silkiness of her skin and for a fleeting moment, as he lay there beneath her, Spike wished he could see what he was touching.
Her stockings had been a surprise, especially since he'd expected the satiny material to actually be tights. Not that he was complaining. The smooth run up her legs that was broken by the gentle roughness of the lace, only to be followed by the even softer texture of her skin had him almost panting with desire. He could feel the heat coming off her in waves now and, eyes still locked with each other’s, he gave her thighs a hard squeeze. In response she jerked slightly then pressed down more firmly onto his chest, her pupils dilating dramatically as her grasp on his head tightened.
Spike watched in fascination as her pink tongue darted out to run along her parted lips letting out a soft moan that caused his hips to buck involuntarily up against her.
She gasped then gave him a purely feminine smile. “Is that where it hurts?” she asked softly as she returned the pressure of his thrust. “Want me to rub it better?”
'Hell yes!' Spike wanted to yell out but his brain, obviously in shock, had shut down his vocal chords and he'd lost all capacity for speech. After a couple more unsuccessful attempts, he finally croaked out, "Buffy, I…"
Whatever he'd been about to say was suddenly drowned out by the sound of a truly bloodcurdling scream echoing throughout the crypt, shattering the intimate moment into a thousand pieces.
They both tensed and stared at each other in surprise for a second then Buffy grabbed her stake and scrambled to her feet as quick as she could. "I have to go help," she said unnecessarily before heading for the door.
Spike lay where he was for a moment attempting to subdue his overwrought body while trying to figure out what the hell had just happened between the two of them. Cursing inwardly at the interruption, he stood up with fluid grace and followed the Slayer out of the door.
She hadn’t gone far and turned to him as he approached. “I can’t see or hear anything. You?”
The vampire tested the air for a few seconds then frowned. “Over there,” he said, gesturing to their right. “Not right sure what it is but it’s not human and after that scream, I doubt it’s breathing.”
“Neither do I but we should go look just in case,” Buffy replied, shooting him a regretful glance. At his nod, she stalked off mentally berating living on the Hellmouth and being subjected to its consistent bad timing.
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Giles got up from the couch and walked over to the door. “Yes, alright, I'm coming,” he called irately as the rapping of knuckles came again. As soon as he opened the door, Willow and Tara walked passed him and into his living room. "What…?"
"Giles, we think we saw the ugly demon tonight," Willow cut him off excitedly.
"Really?" he asked, pushing the door closed and turning towards the two women. "Where?"
"We saw him at Willy's when we went get Spike," the redhead explained. "And I've gotta say, ugly doesn't even begin to describe him. On the Repulsive-o-meter, he rates a clear one hundred and sixteen."
"And then some," Tara concurred with a nod.
"Did Spike confirm it was indeed the demon he'd seen before?" the Watcher queried with interest.
Willow and Tara shared a quick look before turning back to Giles. "Uh, Spike had, uh, just left when the, uh, ugly guy turned up, so, no, he didn't confirm," the redhead lied, shooting another glance at her girlfriend.
Tara nodded her agreement. "T-t-that's right. No c-confirming," she corroborated, her stutter coming out in full force as, she too, fibbed to the Watcher.
"Yes, well, if you think this could be the demon we're after then at least we have some idea of what he could look like now," Giles mused aloud, too caught up in the possibility of solving his research problem to notice the witches less than eloquent recitation of supposed events.
"Yes!" Willow agreed wholeheartedly. "Books, research, find. Not a problem. Should we go to the Magic Box now?"
"Actually, I've brought some books home with me, so…"
"Even better," the redhead interrupted enthusiastically as she took of her coat and placed it over the back of his couch. Looking around the room and drawing a blank, she turned back to Giles and asked, "Where are they?"
"In my room. I'll just go and get them," the Watcher replied. Gesturing to the kitchen, he added, "Help yourselves to a drink and something to eat. I shan't be a minute."
They watched him walk out of the room then turned to each other and both let out a long sigh.
"We're doing the right thing, aren't we?" Willow asked her lover plaintively.
"Sure we are, sweetie," Tara answered reassuringly. She reached up and cupped the redhead's face lovingly. "I don’t think Giles would be very understanding if we'd told him that Spike was actually talking to the guy."
"Or that he got all avoidy and denial guy afterwards either," Willow added as she placed her hand over Tara's and leaned gently into it with a smile. "Best we try and talk to Spike ourselves. Let him know that we heard the threat and see if he tells us what's going on."
Tara nodded then leaned in and gave Willow a tender kiss, only pulling back when she heard Giles returning. "Time to hit the books," she said with a grin.
"Oh, goody," the redhead replied, the excitement evident in her voice and features. "I'll go make us a drink and then we can make a start on finding the uber ugly."
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Buffy let out a long sigh and cursed her luck as she stared down at the corpse at her feet. When she'd decided to use this cemetery, it was because of notable lack of demon presence within the area. She certainly hadn’t expected to find another victim of the recent apparently self-inflicted deaths.
"And baby makes three," Spike commented sardonically as he looked up from his crouched position to where Buffy stood at his side.
Big mistake.
Once they’d left the crypt, Spike had got his first good look at the Slayer and any thoughts of attempting to calm his raging libido had flown clear out the window for the next six months…at least.
Realising that Buffy was staring back down at him, he quickly tried to drop his gaze but his eyes defied his brain and lingered over her top. The fitted satin look material was black inlaid with red, the colour most predominant was dependant on the amount of moonlight that bounced off the iridescent garment.
Cut low at the front, its boned, tight fitting bodice showed off her chest to its fullest advantage. The sleeves were short and split down the middle to fall in loose folds at the top of her arms. The back was also cut low and had a single long, string lace that zig-zagged across the middle expanse of the material acting as a lace-up that when tied into the neat bow it was now, pulled the garment even tighter.
If that wasn't enough for the poor vampire to take in, the top then finished just above her navel leaving her tanned, highly toned and extremely touchable stomach blatantly on display.
Still ignoring his brain, his eyes dropped further down her body until it rested on her black, soft suede, skirt that stopped just below her knees and rode low on her hips. Each side had a split up to mid thigh that allowed him to catch a glimpse of her lacey topped stockings as she walked.
All in all her choice of clothing left little to the imagination…well…his imagination anyway.
"So another one that looks like suicide," she stated, breaking into his thoughts and finally bringing his gaze to her face once more.
He watched as she flipped some of her long hair over her shoulder exposing the smooth line of her neck. His eyes locked onto the point where her pulse throbbed against her skin then swallowed hard before tearing his gaze away and nodding curtly. "Looks like," he replied, standing up and taking a couple of steps back to a safer distance before reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes. He needed something to occupy his hands before he gave into the temptation to touch her.
"But you still don't think so, do you?" she questioned with a frown.
He put a cigarette to his mouth then lit it and exhaled the smoke before glancing in her direction. He knew without a doubt that Fen had something to do with the murdered female laying between them, there were still traces of his scent on the body and lingering in the air. He also knew that he didn’t want Buffy getting involved. Fen’s magic was strong and he didn’t want her anywhere near him. Time for some evasive action.
"Got no evidence to prove otherwise," he finally answered with a shrug. He looked back down at the corpse pointing to the cuts on the ankles. "A Shilpa demon's essence is in its feet. That's the way they'll do themselves in every time. Slashing the ankles is just like humans slashing their wrists except instead of blood pouring out, it’s their spirit."
Buffy carefully stepped over the dead female's body and bent down to get a closer look. The movement caused her skirt to tighten across her backside and, unable to resist, Spike tilted his head slightly and studied the view with a small smile.
"But again, there doesn't appear to be a struggle," she commented before straightening up and looking back at the vampire who had resumed his impassive expression. "You said something about the essence being taken? Do you think that's what we've been missing here? Rather than the blood it's been all about their essence's instead?"
"Could be," Spike replied slowly as he stiffened imperceptibly, his senses suddenly alerting him to the fact that something…someone was watching them. Not noticing the change in him, Buffy made a contemplative sound, then looked back down at the dead demon, allowing Spike to furtively scan the surrounding area in an attempt to pinpoint the location of the unwelcome presence.
Just as in the alley, it stayed on the edges of his awareness and, with sudden clarity, the vampire knew that Fen was still around. 'Cheeky bugger,' he thought to himself as he tried to damp down the fear that was beginning to rise. He didn't want a confrontation with Buffy around. If anything happened to her and he couldn't stop it…
"I'll talk to Giles in the morning and see what he thinks," the Slayer was saying as her voice broke into his thoughts causing him to refocus on her once more. “I just want to do one more quick sweep…”
"No!" Spike interjected sharply then, at her sudden frown, he hastened to add, “I mean, it’s late, you don’t want to miss more of the whelp’s party than you already have, do you?” Before she could respond, he flicked his cigarette butt away then bent over and picked up the lifeless body. Hefting it over his left shoulder, he said, "I'll just get rid of this and you can be on your merry way." He began to walk off hoping that she'd follow him. It worked.
She let out a loud huff and started trailing after him. He slowed his pace so that she could catch up and then shot her a glance. She looked annoyed but if it kept her safe, he was happy.
Buffy walked by his side inwardly seething with frustration. This night wasn't turning out how she'd hoped or Willow planned. They'd been so close in the crypt and now they were back to square one again. Spike had seemed so receptive earlier but was now pushing her away again and she was seriously considering Anya's suggestion and saying, what the hell, before letting him know that she knew everything, punching him in the face, then shagging his brains out until he couldn't walk straight. The whole guilt trip thing could be dealt with afterwards.
Except, she somehow recognised that it wouldn't. For once, taking it slow seemed to be the way to go with Spike. She'd realised that in the tomb when she'd virtually had to coax a reaction out of him.
Okay. Take it slow. Keep it sneaky. And get him the heck back to that crypt so we can finish what I started.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced over at his set features then spoke, keeping her tone light. “So,” she said, breaking the silence that had settled over them as they trudged to the exit of the cemetery. “Once you’ve got rid of the body, how about coming along with me to the Bronze?”
Anticipating his usual refusal, Buffy casually raised a hand to her right ear. Being that she was walking on his right, he didn’t notice when she surreptitiously gave a tug on the golden hoop that was attached to her lobe and grasped it in her palm.
“I think I’d better head on back…” Spike began, only to quieten when the Slayer let out a cry of dismay. “What’s wrong?” he queried coming to an abrupt halt and looking around half expecting to see Fen's hideous features grinning back at him from out of the night.
“I’ve lost my earring,” Buffy replied with a tut. “It was one of my favourites too. I bet I lost it in that crypt.”
The vampire relaxed then sighed irritably and began moving again, wanting to get her out of the area quickly. “You've got loads of baubles, Slayer, surely one little earring's not going to make a difference.”
“But these are special,” she insisted, her bottom lip starting to jut out as she jogged slightly to catch up with his suddenly faster pace. She grabbed his arm and brought him to a halt, pulling him around so that they faced one another. Giving him a pleading look through her lashes, she pushed her lip out further and coaxingly said, "They were a present."
"Slayer…"
"Come on, it'll only take a few seconds to go back and check," she persisted. She was about to turn away when she noticed Spike's eyes suddenly widen in alarm at something he saw over her shoulder. "Spike? What?"
"Buffy, duck!" the vampire ordered urgently.
She responded immediately and dropped to a crouch, feeling the disturbance of the air as something whizzed over her head. She looked up in time to see Spike jerk backwards, a taloned hand missing his face by mere inches. Pushing herself up, she stood next to Spike and turned around to face their assailant.
END CHAPTER 10
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