By mr. monkeybottoms
DISCLAIMERS: There’s this guy, see? His name’s Joss. He tells me he owns all rights to BTVS. He also tells me to stop calling, writing and standing outside his house. Well, actually, his lawyers said that. What’s that all about??
THANKYOU: I can’t tell you how-and I know I keep saying this, lol-how great it is to read your reviews. I give you all big kisses!
MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE RANCH: J.R. is in the den, a glass of scotch in his hand, smiling evilly...oh, wait, wrong show. Buffy left Spike in the Bronze. She also left Riley in the Bronze, but hey, wouldn’t you? We pick up right where we left off, actually.
Riley quickly recovered from the collision and grabbed Spike roughly by the upper arm, frowning.
Where‘s Buffy?” he demanded. Spike narrowed his eyes at him and yanked his arm out of Riley’s grip.
“Hey! Leave off mate.” He gave Riley a slight smirk. “Buffy left.”
“She left? What happened?” Riley demanded. “If you hurt her-”
“Not even close, soldier boy,” Spike said, feeling victorious. He looked at the overblown field hand in front of him. Pictured himself shoving his Buffy-scented fingers under his nose, smirking at him. Smell that sweetcheeks? That’s something I got from Buffy tonight. She gave it up so easily too. Barely put up a fight. Thought about how furious he would be as he realized that Spike had gotten a piece of his girlfriend, and right under his nose too. Oh, this was going to be sweet.
“Buffy met up with a vamp. Went out the back way to battle it.” Spike couldn’t believe he was saying this malarkey. He was covering for the Slayer! Bollocks.
“And you left her on her own?” Riley shook his head. “She needs backup. She went after it with no weapons, no tracking device, no cover team. What was she thinking?”
“Slayer’s a big girl. She can handle herself in a fight.” He started to walk away but Riley stepped in front of him, stopping him from leaving. Spike paused and looked up at him menacingly.
“How long ago did she leave?” Riley snapped.
“Bugger off, prat.” Spike stepped closer. Riley gave him his best steely-eyed glare.
“I’ll be watching you. I know you’re up to something, and when I find out...” Riley trailed off meaningfully. Spike stared back at him, not breaking eye contact, and in the back of his mind he considered smashing the commando right in his lumpy face with the nearest chair. It would be worth the week-long migraine.
Neither one moved for a few more seconds till Spike grew tired of the game. He gave Riley a smug grin and started walking away. “See you around, Private Joker.”
“It’s Lieutenant,” Riley said coldly. Spike, still backing up, gave him an enthusiastic salute that turned into the finger. Riley didn’t move, just silently watched him walk away. Wasn’t he wearing a coat earlier?
What does Buffy see in that milk-fed farmboy? Spike shook his head as he walked, trying to imagine what the guy had to offer her. Holding hands by the fire? Walks in the park? A passel of brats? Please. All those things weren’t Buffy. The girl wasn’t made for PTA meeting and carpools. She was made for killing and fighting. She was made for fucking.
She was made for me. The revelation startled him. He stopped dead in his tracks, horrified by his thoughts. What the hell was he thinking? There was no way he was gonna get pussywhipped into mooning over The Slayer of all people. Spike started walking again, angry. He’d gotten what he wanted from her and it was time to move on. Do a good round of evil. He could go down to main Street and rip out the wiring on the traffic lights, sit back, and enjoy the show. Maybe someone would be thrown from their car and he could get a few drinks in before they kicked off. At the very least it would be funny.
Spike grinned and reached for his cigarettes. Which were in his duster. Which the Slayer had. Dammit. He pictured her walking back to her dorm, the leather flowing around her bare legs, all that sweet skin underneath, that smooth, delicious skin of hers. God, she’d been amazing. So soft, and hard all at once. And her heat. It had made him crazy, made him beg. He licked his lips, thinking how Buffy had moaned when he was inside her, how she’d clutched at him as the waves ripped through her. That was all done now. He was through with the Slayer and the Scoobies for good. He had his own place now, a cozy little crypt all to himself. No Watcher giving him frowning looks, no Harris and his stupid basement and little sex-demon girlfriend. No Witch with her sending him sorry-for-you-and -your-chip-problem glances. He was through with the lot of ‘em. His footsteps slowed and he looked up, finding himself standing at the tree in front of her house.
The Summer’s home was dark, but there was one light on. Spike leaned against the tree and watched, waiting. He finally saw her as she walked past her window. Just a brief glimpse, but it made his breath quicken nonetheless. The Slayer must of come home instead of going to the dorm. Didn’t want to risk being seen in her current state of undress by the little Wicca. He grabbed the lowest branch and pulled himself up to her bedroom.
Buffy heard the slight noise he made and whirled around to find Spike at her window. “Spike! What the hell are you doing?”
“Just what it looks like Slayer,” he answered, flashing his usual grin at her. “Coming in.”
“Well, you can just turn around and go right back out again.” She crossed her arms and frowned, trying to look menacing in her ‘Yummy Sushi’ pajamas. “I really need to de-invite you.”
“A little late for that, don’t you think, luv?” Spike said, pleased with himself. “You’ve invited me in already tonight.”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed at him. “Shut it, Spike. Don‘t remind me. It‘s already been forgotten,” she said, trying to play like the evening hadn‘t affected her, but her blush betrayed her.
Spike looked at her damp hair and freshly scrubbed face. She smelled good, fresh, like rain and flowers. “You showered.” He walked over to her bed, ignoring the appalled look she sent him and laid down on his back, arms behind his head. He smiled sensually, stretching slowly. “Fancy another go, pet?” Buffy grabbed the front of his black t-shirt and yanked him up. “Hey! Watch it! I don’t have anything to cover my clothes if they get torn...” His duster was thrown in his face, cutting him off.
“Get out,” she hissed, eyes flitting over to her bedroom door. Spike noticed.
“Scared we’ll be too loud, sweetheart?” He came over to her and leaned close. “We could be very, very quiet. I could make love to you nice and slow this time. I could lay with you right here on your bed, just rocking together slowly, kissing and-”
“I can’t,” Buffy said, her voice low and husky. “I-”
He cut her off with a kiss. Not the searing, blinding kisses he’d given her at The Bronze, but a soft, gentle one. His lips traveled over to her ear, making her shiver as he licked her lightly. His mouth was cool but Buffy felt rather hot from the contact.
“Stop it!” Buffy pulled back and walked away, standing on the opposite side of the room. He didn’t say anything, just stood there, holding his coat and watching her. “Spike, you have to go. I can’t do this right now, ok? Riley is on his way over and-”
“Riley?” Spike stilled dangerously.
“Yes, Riley,” Buffy said. “He’s-”
“Oh no, no need to explain to me,” Spike interrupted her snidely. “If your loverboy is on his way for his turn at the Slayer then who am I to argue? Although you may have trouble explaining that to him.” He pointed to the purple lovebite he’d left on her neck, right on her pulse. “Maybe you can tell him all about how that horrid Hickey Demon attacked you in the ladies washroom.”
Buffy’s lip trembled a bit and she bit down on it, hard. He didn’t notice, too blinded by his jealousy. “Spike-”
“I’m off.” He yanked on his duster and stormed to her window, but then paused, one leg out. “Oh, by the way, Johnny Beefcake was looking for you when I came out of the bath. We had a little talk, the two of us.”
Buffy’s face fell. “What did you say?” she whispered, so low that he could barely hear her.
I told him how I fucked you hard and you loved every moment of it.
“I told him you went off to fight a nasty,” he said, hating himself for being so soft. She looked at him, eyes wide and he made a frustrated sound, pulling himself all the way off the sill, falling smoothly to the grass below. He brushed off his coat and turned to see Buffy at her window, leaning out.
“Thank you,” she said. “You didn’t have to do that for me. I-” Buffy stumbled a bit on the words, “I appreciate it.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, well, don’t mention it Slayer.” He turned away again, but had barely taken three steps when he heard her follow him out the window, dropping down lightly. Spike turned, surprised.
“Spike...” Buffy paused, uncertain. She stood in the damp grass, barefoot. “I-I need time.”
He sighed. “Time? What for? So you can play with your bloody Mr. Right? Pretend you don’t want me?” He shook his head. “Do what you want, Slayer. It makes no difference to me.”
“Is that true?” she asked when he went to move away from her. “You don’t care?”
“No,” Spike answered, too quickly. “No, I don’t care.”
“Fine.” Buffy turned away from him.
“Fine.” Spike crossed his arms in defiance.
“I suppose I’ll go back upstairs.” Buffy resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him.
“Yes, don’t let me keep you from loverboy. Off you go then, back to your room.”
“Oh, I will,” Buffy said crossly.
“Good. Carry on. Hope you have fun with Army Man.”
Buffy‘s shoulders slumped. “It’s never easy breaking up with someone.”
Spike scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, Slayer. We’re not together, remember? So you’re not breaking up with me. There is no us.” He stormed off, incensed. Buffy’s mouth dropped open as she watched him make the Big Exit.
“I wasn’t talking about you, you complete moron.”
Continued in Chapter six