Chapter 11
Spike leaned against the wall listening to the noises overhead as he smoked one of the few remaining cigarettes in his pocket. There was little he hated worse than inaction and the confinement in this small space was starting to wear on him. He snorted to himself. Alright, maybe it wasn’t the tiny space so much as the other presence he found his eyes drawn to again and again as she lay there sleeping peacefully, her still nude body curled into the leather of his coat. The Slayer. Buffy. Was he out of his mind? The spectacular shag they’d just shared had done nothing but make him hungry for more. Even worse, he found himself craving not just some rough and tumble, he wanted her to confide in him again, to see that vulnerable soft side to the hard as nails facade she put up in Slayer mode. Forget Angel, he was the biggest nancy boy out there.
She shifted and rolled slightly onto her side, giving him a half view of soft curves that made him grow hard again. He forcibly looked away. He had to get out of this tomb, had to get out of this town, because he was starting to realize that Dru’s premonitions was not as off base and crazy as he’d thought. He was starting to feel for this tiny slip of a girl and no good would ever come of it.
He was momentarily distracted by the noises of what sounded like a bulldozer above his head. They been busy up there for a while now and the roof of the buried tomb had developed cracks from the weight of heavy machinery. He didn’t fancy the prospect of being buried under a mound of dirt. The earth shuddered again and a large chunk landed in the corner, revealing a small wedge of light from above. Spike leapt to his feet, realizing there just might be a way out after all.
“Slayer, wake up.” He reached out and started to touch her shoulder, but paused to drape the duster over her before shaking her lightly through the heavy leather.
Buffy started awake to find Spike hovering over her and experienced a brief moment of panic. The events of the past few hours began rushing back rapidly and she swallowed hard at the memories as she looked down to find herself wrapped in his duster. She gave him a silent look of thanks and he gave a small nod before continuing.
“Luv, I think we have a way out. They’re bulldozing or something of the sort over head, I can hear them, and there’s a crack of light in the corner there. I suspect that whatever they’re doing’s going to open us up a way out.”
She nodded, still silent and strangely unsure of what to say as she scrambled into the clothes he handed her, though her underwear was mysteriously missing from the pile. She ignored the lack thereof and finished her brief grooming as she returned to his side, watching as another large chunk of earth fell from above.
She could see the remnants of sunlight indicating it was late afternoon and then suddenly the machinery stopped. She began to yell for help, but gave up as she realized the workmen were far away. She turned to Spike. Things might need to be said between them, but this just wasn’t the time. She flushed as their eyes finally met fully and she broke the contact quickly, focusing on the matter at hand. “Think you can boost me up there?”
He nodded and they moved to the corner. He cupped his hands and she inserted her foot, lightly touching his shoulders for balance as she prepared for him to lift her up. She glanced up as she realized he wasn’t moving and found herself lost again in the blueness of his eyes. His expression was unfathomable as he stared at her for a long moment, the awkward position forgotten as their eyes mirrored their confusion and asked questions that couldn’t be answered.
Spike dropped his hands and grabbed her shoulders, backing her against the wall as he kissed her lips for the first time, in a way that curled her toes and made her dizzy with the possibilities. His lips caressed hers softly at first, then grew more demanding and she clutched his shoulders as his tongue sought entrance to her mouth. Buffy found herself lost to all her senses other than touch as everything devolved to the sensations of his hands now sliding down her back to pull her closer against him, the softness of his hair as one hand stroked his neck and urged him nearer, the tangle of soft lips, sharp teeth and caressing tongue that made her heart race and blood pound and the contrast of the heat and cold of their bodies that somehow intensified everything that much more. She shut down her brain and its protests and lost herself to the feelings until air became an issue.
As she broke the kiss and gasped for breath, he abruptly pulled away and resumed his stance, refusing to meet her eyes directly again. She stared at him, her hand pressed to her lips, but his gaze was shuttered and business-like as he held his hands out for her to step into.
“Spike . . .”
“Slayer, roof’s gonna give any minute, better hurry before we’re trapped for good.”
She bit back a comment about that not bothering him a moment before, and stepped backed into his now impersonal embrace.
With his boost, she managed to reach the edge and pull herself out, grabbing a length of rope curled over back of one of the big machines parked around the site. Buffy lowered the rope and leaned over to help pull him from the pit and as he neared the opening, it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t once questioned that she would help him. She tucked away the disturbing thought, ’cause after all Slayers weren’t supposed to save vampires, rationalizing that she’d made a truce she shouldn’t back out on. Inner Buffy laughed as the platinum head emerged. Oh yeah, the way you kept your deal with that other vamp who brought you to Spike? Hmmm, could it be because he didn’t have an amazing body and hadn’t just given you an incredible afternoon that scratched your itch in a big way?
She blocked out the thoughts as she pulled Spike to the edge and he scrambled from the hole. Buffy began to move back and realized that the charmed necklace had snagged on a root. She started to unsnarl it, when suddenly she felt the rumbling of one of the small tremors that occasionally rippled through the area. She felt Spike grip her waist and pull her forcibly away from the edge, as the necklace’s clasp gave way and the cross tumbled back into the hole.
Just as he flung her back, the edge where she’d been laying gave way and the entire ground began to collapse, burying the treasure of Amarra again. Buffy watched stunned as the earth settled, realizing that she could well have been under there if he hadn’t pulled her back.
Spike swallowed hard as he stared at the Slayer. Like virtually every plan he’d ever had, this one had backfired royally. Yep, shag her and get it out of your system, right mate. He’d just saved the Slayer from death and he was more besotted than ever. But, it wouldn’t do to let her know. So he rolled away and shifted to his feet sliding into game face.
“Well, guess the truce is over, then.”
She watched him with solemn eyes, and he fought to keep his emotions from shining through as she searched his face, strangely not repelled by the twisted visage.
“I guess so.” She shifted to her feet and assumed a fighting stance. “Looks like I lost my advantage though.”
He shook his head slowly. “No, you really didn’t, Slayer.”
“So I guess we have to fight now?”
He nodded slowly. “It’s what we do.”
The dance began and the pair fought with the same precision and grace as before, but this time there was no lethal force as they parried and thrust against each other’s moves, only a back and forth as both held their own but refused to go for the final attack. As the last rays of the sun set, Buffy executed a sweep that carried him to the ground, She grabbed his hand and pulled off the ring, then backed slowly away.
“Guess I must have dropped my stake, Spike.”
He sat up, vamp face gone now, and their eyes met again before she turned and ran away back towards Sunnydale. He looked around and realized they must be on the outskirts of the new road running along the town border. He sighed, brushed himself off, and slowly began the journey back to town and his car.