Chapter 8
Spike woke up feeling incredibly, blissfully warm. He kept his eyes closed, focusing on that warmth and begging the Powers to let it last. Only a slight movement next to him made that incredibly difficult. He opened one eye and a slow, devious smile spread across his lips. Buffy was sprawled over his torso, her head nestled beneath his chin, her cheek pressed against his chest, one arm on his stomach and one leg flung over his. At some point in the night, she’d removed her jacket and her exposed flesh that wasn’t covered by her camisole simply burned him. He tried to reach down to brush a rogue hair away from her cheek but was met with resistance. He’d forgotten about the restraints, and now that he was thinking about it, his arms hurt like a bitch from being pulled high above his head.
She made a quiet mewling noise and her hand scratched its way down his abdomen, beneath the sheet and all the way down to his…
“Ohhh…” he moaned quietly, hoping not to wake her. Something else was waking up, though, and that was not good. The Slayer’s hand was resting on the base of his cock and over his balls and she had absolutely no idea. He wiggled his hips a bit to see if he could get her hand a little higher, but that only made things worse. As a reflex, she gripped his now hard shaft and he bit his lip so hard it almost bled. Buffy nuzzled her head on his chest and grumbled something in her sleep before she released him again, but her hand slipped upwards over the tip of his cock before it landed safely on his stomach and there was no way in hell Spike could stop the involuntary movement of his hips when she touched his sensitive head. He jerked forward with a shudder, cursing quietly afterwards.
It was too late. The movement woke his sleeping slut.
Buffy’s head shot up and she inhaled sharply, her vision still foggy from sleep. “What? What happened?” Then she realized her position on the bed and that her hand was dangerously close to Spike’s…”Oh my god!” She sat up and covered her mouth with the same hand that had sought out a special prize while she slumbered.
Spike stared at the ceiling, his lips in a thin line of irritation. “Mornin’, Slayer. Sleep well? It was a bit touch and go there for a while, but I managed.”
“What are you talking about?” She noticed a twitching beneath the sheets and gasped. “Eww, Spike!”
Well, he was going to keep the incident to himself to save her from embarrassment, but she’d screwed that little plan up by thinking his cock was something to be disgusted by…after she’d been the reason for his hard-on. So, fuck her. “It’s not my fault you can’t keep your bloody hands to yourself! Practically tugged me off a second ago. I feel violated.” If his hands weren’t tied, he’d be crossing his arms right now in defiance.
“I did not touch your…your…”
“Say the word, Slayer. It’s not hard. Well, it is…but you get the idea.”
The bastard was grinning at her, tapping his tongue behind his teeth as Buffy blushed crimson. “Don’t get cute with me, Spike,” she got off the bed and cast a hand through her hair, studiously avoiding the tent in the sheets. “I know that guys…wake up with morning wood. Don’t blame it on me.”
“Oi!” he shouted, “I was perfectly fine until that hot lil’ hand of yours took the south exit beneath the sheets. I should’a known you were a perv…tyin’ me up jus’ to take advantage of me.” He pouted.
“ME take advantage? You’re the one who got me drunk last night, and let me tell you, that’s the only reason I ever let you touch me!”
Spike closed his eyes, fuming with anger. This was a losing battle, what with him being tied up and naked with a bulge the size of Texas beneath the sheets. All he had was words and hers were pissing him off. Yeah, he’d planned on getting her drunk, but that was to kill her, not make out with her! That part just happened, as a side note. Because he wanted her. No, he wanted to kill her. Right now, Spike wanted to murder the Slayer and dance in her blood. Even though her nipples were calling to him like sirens, but he was getting ahead of himself and the stubborn bint was denying how much she wanted him, too. Wanted him so bad, in fact, that she fondled him in her sleep! He had half a mind to believe she was faking just to cop a cheap feel.
“’f it makes you feel better to convince yourself of that, Slayer, go right ahead. But you an’ I both know we were two seconds away from joinin’ at the hip.”
“Yeah, until you said her name,” she mumbled under her breath.
Spike heard it.
The bastard.
He smiled arrogantly and stretched on the bed, tugging on his restraints. “Was an accident, luv. We can start over if you like. I promise the only thing I’ll scream will be ‘Buffy’!” He moaned her name huskily, closing his eyes with mock ecstasy.
She ignored the tingles between her legs when he said her name that way and instead threw a pillow at his face. “You’re such a pig!” Angrily, she spun on her heel and made her way to the bathroom but Spike’s voice halted her.
“You could at least untie me so I can take care of this!”
With a saccharine grin, she turned around, folded her arms and cocked her head. “Poor Spike. You know what? Why don’t you roll over on your stomach and hump the mattress. Maybe it will remind you of your girlfriend’s bored expression every time you have sex.” Satisfied with the incredulous look on his face, she turned back around and went into the bathroom for yet another shower.
“That was a low blow, Slayer!” he snarled, struggling helplessly in his restraints and thrashing his legs on the bed. “No woman’s ever been bored with me, you bitch!”
Buffy giggled as she turned on the water. She didn’t doubt that Spike had skills in bed, but leaving him in that condition was too hard to resist. Her eyes suddenly widened when she realized that soon, she’d have to release him so they could get back on the road. She might have gone a teensy bit too far. He wasn’t crippled anymore and was one hell of a fighter. She hoped he wasn’t planning on making her eat those words…with fangs. Buffy so didn’t have time for temper tantrums.
Spike was pissed beyond words. No bloody way was he letting her get away with that. Using all his strength, he wrapped his hands around the rope for more leverage and pulled. After three grueling tries, the motel’s wooden headboard shattered from the pressure and Spike was free. He slipped on a pair of jeans and his boots, and then he quietly walked to the bathroom door, listening closely for her movements. She was in the shower, singing some awful Madonna song about virgins. He suppressed a smile from the affect her adorable tone deafness had on him and instead focused on his intent which was to beat the shit out of her, drain her dry, steal her car and money and get the fuck out of town. On a silent count of three, he kicked the door in and they both froze. For very, very different reasons. Buffy, partly in shock that he’d freed himself, but also because of the hand she’d currently snaked between her legs to wash herself. She knew what it must have looked like. Spike’s eyes zeroed in on said-hand, all thoughts of murder on the back burner for the time being. She was soapy, and golden, and so very naked. And he was so dazed by the sheer brilliance of this moment that he didn’t see her expression turn into that of absolute rage and lunge for him.
Even barefooted, the Slayer could pack one hell of a kick to his chin, sending him flying back into the wall. Without caring of her condition, she continued to punch and kick and hurl the stunned vampire until he was finally knocked unconscious by an end table. In Spike’s defense, he was really having trouble concentrating when she’d lift her legs for a brutal kick, or bounce around to punch him, exposing parts of her body he’d become entranced with, body parts shiny with soap and begging him for a pinch or a lick. Buffy thought maybe she should fight vamps naked more often…the effect was similar to kryptonite.
With inhuman speed, she bound his wrists together. He’d still be able to cause some damage if he wanted, but it would have to do while she dressed and packed their things. He groaned behind her as he came to and she held a stake in her hands in plain view. She had no time for his retaliation, and luckily, Spike wasn’t in the mood to fight. His head felt like a frozen pineapple and he licked up the blood that trickled from his nose.
Before he could say or do anything, Buffy unceremoniously dumped a bag of pig’s blood onto his bare stomach. “Drink fast. We’re leaving in five. And if you try to bolt, I’ve got a cross bow,” she pointed to the bed where the weapon lay, “with your name all over it. So just try me.”
Spike muttered a few choice curse words under his breath as he ripped open the cold bag of blood with his teeth. Buffy sat on the bed and phoned Giles, eyeing Spike’s every movement and clutching her stake with her free hand.
“Hey Giles, it’s me.”
“Buffy, thank god! I hadn’t heard from you. Are you all right?”
“Yeah, we sort of missed the last exit so we’re going to have to back track tonight. Might have lost a day of travel.”
“Oh, dear,” he sighed. “This certainly puts a damper on things.”
“Yeah, but as long as we stay on schedule from this point on, we should make it to Maryland in time.”
“I hope that you do. Buffy, things have gotten quite chaotic since you left. Are you sitting down?”
Buffy swallowed and glanced at Spike for a moment before she answered her watcher. “Yeah, I’m sitting. What happened?”
Spike stopped mid gulp and tried to listen to the conversation. Vamp hearing really did come in handy.
“Angelus and Drusilla have created quite an army of fledglings and while Xander and I have tried our best on nightly patrols, we’ve had to stop short several times only to save our own lives. Word has reached the demon community that you’re gone.”
“Well, we anticipated that. Let’s just hope I can get back as soon as possible. And Giles? Your life is more important. If you or Xander got hurt…”
“I know, Buffy. We’ve all been inseparable, especially at night in order to be safe. Joyce has requested that we all stay with her until your return.”
Buffy completely forgot that Giles took on the responsibility of telling her mother about her calling. If she was already playing protector to her friends, maybe she didn’t take the news as hard as she anticipated. “That’s probably for the best. How did she take the news?”
“As expected,” he said tensely. “However, Angelus and Drusilla have driven it home for her.”
“What do you mean, Giles?” Buffy panicked and Spike’s ears perked up. He stood and walked towards her, sucking on the bag of blood and listening intently. He was curious and a little jealous over what his family was up to. It had to be deliciously devious.
“She called me this morning complaining about strange noises during the night. It seems that Angelus and Drusilla were…fornicating below your bedroom window.”
Buffy’s hand tightened around the phone and she closed her eyes. Spike’s jaw clenched. “If they touch my mother…”
“I don’t think the gesture was for Joyce, Buffy. They’ve been leaving rather…suggestive mementos of their lovemaking on your front porch. They must know that you would find out, possibly in the hopes that you’ll abandon your mission to seek revenge.”
“Bugger, that!” Spike yelled.
“Was that Spike?”
“Yeah…he doesn’t seem amused. Nor am I for that matter.”
Spike paced the motel room angrily on the verge of tears or absolute rage. No matter how many times he’d seen it before him, knowing what his Grandsire and Sire did so frequently still stung. He envied Buffy at that moment. Her demeanor was calm and business like, void of any emotion. He supposed the Slayer had to be this way, though he felt a pang of remorse for her. She was still only seventeen and shouldn’t have to be stoic for the sake of humanity. She should be weeping with her girlfriends and painting her nails and spending hours bashing her ex boyfriend. Not trapped in a motel with the likes of him, hearing the dirty details of her ex lover’s affairs. He sat down on the bed finally, having ignored the rest of her phone conversation as his thoughts took over.
Buffy hung up the phone and sat silently for a moment, uncaring or unaware that Spike was next to her. “Time to go.”
~*~*~*~
“I can’t believe him!” Buffy pounded the steering wheel as they drove down the highway.
“He’s a git, Buffy.”
“He told my mother I was a lousy lay,” she sniffled, “my mother! God, she must hate me right now. I couldn’t even tell her about my calling and now Angelus is screwing Drusilla right on our front door and telling my mother I suck in bed.”
Spike had heard bits and pieces of Angel’s time with the Slayer, though he knew most of his crude comments were out of rage for having been souled for so long. And Drusilla ate up every word with admiration for her dear ol’ daddy. “Yeah, an’ stupid Dru shagging him right in front of me all the time. What’s that about?”
“I can’t even imagine that,” she said comfortingly, though her tone was still laced with anger as they both bitched about their exes. “If Angelus did that in front of me I’d-“
“I’ll tell you what you’d bloody do! You’d kick his arse right an’ proper an’ then stake him. Serve him right, too, the tosser!”
“No, I’d tell all his demon friends what a tiny thingie he had and how the sex only lasted five minutes. Then I’d kick his ass, and THEN I’d stake him.”
Spike chuckled and lit a cigarette effortlessly. She’d untied him, thank god. “Dru’d probably cry to her dollies that dear ol’ dad was dead. And would I take her back?” he asked furiously.
“No you wouldn’t,” Buffy answered during his rant, feeling charged from venting, “because she’s a stupid ho!”
“That’s right,” he nodded his head and shifted in his seat with mirth. “Crazy bitch.”
“And hello? Crushed velvet was so five years ago.”
“Angel wears lifts. Uh…turn here, pet,” he pointed to the exit, not wanting to make that mistake again before his anger returned and he started ranting again. “And you know what? I put up with that bint for over a century. If that’s not bloody commitment, I don’ know what is.”
“Yeah! She’s an idiot, Spike. Any girl would kill to have a guy like you.”
“Thanks, Slayer,” he nodded appreciatively; glad someone finally understood his turmoil. “An’ you know what? Truth be told, she’s not that great in the sack if it’s any consolation to you.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to humor me. No man would spend a hundred plus years with a girl if she wasn’t good in bed.”
“Well…there were good times, sure…but she gets a lil’ bug shagging crazy. Claws and screechin’ an’…it’s not pleasant. Doesn’t even want a cuddle after.”
“Angel kisses like a fish,” she giggled, making sucking movements with her lips to demonstrate. “No passion at all.”
“Dru doesn’ have womanly hips.”
“Angel looks like a Neanderthal.”
Spike cracked up laughing and flicked his cigarette out the window. “He’s a wanker. Mucked up a perfectly good thing an’ I don’ believe for a second that you’re a lousy lay.”
“Really?” Her eyebrows lifted sweetly and she dared a glance at him.
“Course, pet. You’re the bloody Slayer! You’re sexy as hell an’ the way you move…” he cleared his throat. “I bet he was jus’ tryin’ to mess with your head.”
“Maybe,” she chewed on her lip, desperately trying to ignore what Spike almost said. He was too, gazing out the window in mock interest. “Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“Promise me something.”
“I can try, but…evil, remember?” She was about to say something condescending to him but she caught the mischievous glint in his eyes and refrained.
She smiled for a minute and then said seriously, “When we get back to Sunnydale, promise me you won’t go back to Drusilla.”
His eyebrows furrowed as he studied her. “Why do you care what I do?”
She sighed. “Because no one deserves to be treated that way. Even though you annoy me like no other, and you’ve tried to kill me, and you’re an evil bastard…I know you can be nice, too. But just because she’s your sire doesn’t mean you owe her any more than you’ve already given her. You’re too good for her.”
Spike was stunned speechless by her words and he stared at the dashboard. He was too good for Drusilla? Buffy, the bloody Slayer was telling him he was better than something and that he didn’t deserve to be treated like…what the hell was going on with them? “Tell you what, kitten. I’ll stay away from Dru if you stay away from Angel, should he get his soul back.”
She blinked. “But he’d be good again.”
“Are you a complete moron? I don’ care if he’s good again, doesn’ mean ‘e deserves you. Always barkin’ orders, brooding about this that or the other, never lettin’ you be your own person…not to mention he couldn’ ever shag you again. He doesn’ know how to love you proper, Buffy.”
The soft tone of his voice took her by surprise. There was no doubt of his sincerity and the more she thought about it, the more she realized he was right. Angel was a mystery to her, and because of that, her innocent mind clung to him like a fantasy. But what life could they really have together? Without sex, without mutual respect? She was still bitter towards Angelus and didn’t think those wounds would ever heal. Perhaps Spike had a point. “Ok, Spike. You’ve got a deal.”
They shook hands and smiled, relaxing in comfortable silence. For some reason, admitting that they weren’t going to be slaves to their exes anymore was incredibly liberating, as if they could finally breathe and start a new life. It was slightly awkward to come to this realization with your enemy, but that thought didn’t seem to linger for too long. Both were perfectly content with this arrangement and Spike didn’t even say a word when Buffy turned on the radio to some pop station. In fact, he tapped his fingers on his knees to the beat as they made their way down the highway.
This silent camaraderie lasted for a few hours until they crossed over into Illinois. As if waiting for them, three tall figures stood in the middle of the road blocking their path. They were so thin they were almost skeletal, their skin was a nasty shade of grey, eyes glowed green from within and razor sharp teeth that shined in the moonlight when they sneered menacingly at them. Their drab dress told of their low rank, probably minions sent out to halt their journey. Buffy slowed to a stop and turned to the vampire. He was already slipping his duster on and grabbing a sword from the weapon’s bag in the back seat.
“I guess you know what those things are?”
“Githyans. Get an axe, and keep your mind clear. Aim for the head or don’t aim at all. Got it?”
Before she could ask how the hell she was supposed to keep her mind clear, Spike jumped out of the car holding his sword high in the air.
“Here we go,” she said with a sigh and got out of the car, advancing on the three demons.