Goodbye, Iowa... Hello, Spike
by SpikesKat
“So Maggie sends me down
into the sewers with one of those ‘blasto’ guns and the next thing I know
it's raining monsters,” Buffy explained to the Scoobies scattered about
Giles’ living room.
“Hallelujah.” This
from Xander.
Buffy said nothing for a
moment, allowing the silence to settle over the occupants, driving home the
severity of the situation before once again continuing the story of her recent
escapades. “And then this gate slams down behind me and I…I try to use the
gun but it goes pfft.”
“You’re saying that
Maggie Walsh set you up?” Giles questioned, astonished over the news that the
Professor would want to do away with his charge.
“That's exactly what I'm
saying. She sent me on a one-way recon.”
Spike interrupted the
Slayer’s explanation from his position on Giles’ stairs. “Got to hand it
to you, Goldilocks…you do have bleedin’ tragic taste in men. I’ve got a cousin
married to a regurgitating Frovalox demon that’s got better instincts than
you.”
“What does my taste in
men have to do with this?” she asked sarcastically. What was he doing here anyway? And during the day, no less?
“You think Riley was out knittin’ bootees for your future offspring while Maggie was stringin’ you up?”
Spike's rejoinder was met by silence from the others and
Buffy glanced helplessly at each of the Scoobies.
None of them would quite meet her eyes.
“You guys think Riley
had something to do with this?” she asked in a small voice.
Again, no one voiced his or her opinion.
Giles watched Buffy’s shoulders slump. If he didn’t do
something, and quickly, his Slayer would soon be reduced to tears. “Um…probably not but we, uh, would be remiss if we didn’t think of
all the possibilities,” he told her.
Buffy’s shoulders slumped even further. “Great…remiss.”
And, there went another Buffy relationship right down the tubes, she thought. Spike was right…she did have bleeding tragic taste in men. No! Riley was different. Too... nice to be behind something of this magnitude. Unwilling to give up the battle without one final fight, her mind latched onto something, something significant that she’d only just remembered and shared it with the others.
“No! No, Maggie made sure
that he was nowhere around when she sent me on this very special ‘make Buffy
dead’ assignment.”
“Plus…Riley…he seems
like he wouldn’t tell a little white lie let alone a whole bunch of big dirty
ones,” Willow added; she, too, was unwilling to give the commando the heave ho
just yet. Buffy smiled gratefully at the redhead, nodding encouragingly to both
her and the others.
Then Xander had to
go and crush the hope that had been steadily built at her friend’s words.
“That's why they call it
the secret forces, Will, cause they kinda’ keep the whole lying thing to
themselves.”
Buffy’s rose-tinted
glasses came off at Xander’s words. Maybe
Riley had been under orders from Professor Walsh the whole time – forced to
get close to her to find out information on what a Slayer was exactly.
If she thought back to the beginning of the semester, she remembered that Riley
hadn’t been all that interested in her at first.
“All I know is that
Maggie has it in for me, which means the Initiative has it in for me,” she
announced with firm resolve.
“I'm guessing the mad
scientist isn’t too keen on the fact that the entire Scooby gang knows that the
Initiative is up to no good,” Xander commented.
“Which brings us back to
the not safe for any of us concept.” It was time for the Slayer to stand up
and protect her friends, broken-hearted Buffy would have to wait - though in
truth she wasn’t that heart-broken, which lent itself to a whole other internal
debate as to why. “We’re
gonna need someplace safe to hide until I can figure out what exactly Professor
Walsh has planned.”
“Ooohhh… we could go
to my place,” Willow announced.
“No… the Initiative
knows how tight we are. It would be
one of the first places they’d think to look.
Xander, you as well. Although,
it might take them a bit longer for them to find you…”
“I got me a place.”
Five sets of astonished eyes turned towards the vampire still sitting on the
stairs. “Wot?”
“I don’t see us all
shacking up at your crypt, Spike,” Xander retorted.
“I’ll pass on the
creepy crawlies, too. Although…Initiative
here…” Willow hesitated.
“It’s not m’crypt,
you ninnies.” Spike was sorry
he had even offered. But, the
Slayer seemed to be in trouble and ever since Red’s spell, he’d been having
these weird…feelings…about her. He
was just as surprised as everyone else when he had opened his mouth to tell them
about his secret hideaway.
“Jeez… never mind.
Forget I mentioned it.” He
shoved himself off the stairs and walked towards the door, pausing only long
enough to grab his duster off of the coat rack before making himself scarce.
A hand on his arm as he was just about to turn the knob stopped him cold.
“Where is it?” she
asked softly.
“Up in the woods a
bit,” he replied, his voice just as low.
“Had a warlock that owed me a debt.
It’s guarded by magic so only I can see the entrance…or so he
claimed. I’ve yet to see the
place…got the keys though.”
“So, you’re not sure
if it’s even there?”
“Oh, it’s there.
I just ain’t sure what kind of condition it’s in.”
“Ok…” Buffy turned
to the Scoobies and spoke, her voice barking out orders like a seasoned Marine drill
instructor.
“Guys…I want you to go
home and pack a bag. Willow, pass
it around that you’re visiting a sick aunt out of town for the week and have
someone get your assignments for you. That’ll
help as a cover story. Xander, you
and Anya load up as well. I’m not
sure how well the Initiative acquaints you with me, but I’m not taking any
chances. Meet back here when
you’re done. Spike and I will go
and check out his hideout…”
“Buffy, do you think
that’s wise…” Giles began, only to be cut off by her.
“What other choice do we
have? Look, the two of us will check it out,
and if everything seems alright, we’ll come back and get you guys.” The pointed look Buffy shot in their direction dared them to argue with her.
“Questions?”
The way she voiced the query indicated that she didn’t expect there
to be any.
“Good!
We’ll be back shortly.” She
turned away from them and spoke to Spike.
“Spike?
How long does it take to get to your place?”
“Thirty minutes…give
or take.” Buffy processed this
and turned to speak one last time to the Scoobies.
“Ok… we’ll be back
in an hour and a half... two at the very latest.
If we’re…not, pack up and get out of Sunnydale.
Understand?” They all
nodded, saying nothing, loathe to think of what it meant if she didn’t come
back.
“Ready?” she said to
Spike.
Spike inclined his head and draped
his duster over his body to shield himself from the deadly rays of the sun.
Opening the front door, the two raced for the sewer access.
“You heard her,” Giles
began, “We need to be ready for when she gets back. The three of you go together.
I’ll feel better knowing that you are looking out for one
another.”
Anya, Willow, and Xander
nodded and quickly left to pack a bag of necessities. Upon hearing the door shut, Giles climbed the stairs and did
the same.
~*~*~*~*~
Spike and Buffy ran
furiously through the underground tunnels, trying to make all possible haste.
At one point, Buffy had nearly fallen because it was so dark and
slippery, and Spike had reached back and grabbed hold of her hand. She'd
taken it without thought, which would have surprised him if he had a moment to
think on it. As it was, the two continued to run headlong through the
sewer system towards the exit that would lead them to his car.
He just prayed that his Desoto still ran; his baby had been sitting
idle for a long time in storage.
Buffy, for her part, ignored the riotous feelings at his
touch, determined to disregard the memories from Willow’s spell that had
suddenly surfaced while she clung to his hand as he guided
her through the darkened corridors. Spike pulled to
a halt and Buffy very nearly ran into his back; she managed to catch
herself just in the nick of time.
“Up there.
This opens right next to an abandoned warehouse. Once
you reach the top, turn right.
My car is inside the abandoned building straight ahead of you. Go up and open the door and I’ll dash in after you.”
“Ok.”
Buffy quickly climbed the stairs and did like he asked.
She had no sooner broken the lock on the door than Spike was rushing past
her and inside the safe haven the structure provided, eager to escape the overly-bright sun.
She slipped in behind him, looking both ways to see if anyone had spotted
them. Nothing…good!
She pushed the door closed and stepped away to trail after the vampire
moving deeper into the deserted building.
Spike walked over to the mound of debris and began pulling miscellaneous boxes and the like off of the pile until the noticeable outline of a car hidden beneath a tarp began to take shape. When he was down to the cloth covering his baby, he grabbed it and gave a sharp tug, revealing the blackened-out DeSoto. He gave it a fond caress along the hood, pleased to see that nothing seemed amiss.
“Will it run?” she asked as she walked around to the other side.
“Let’s bloody well hope so.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket and opened the door. After leaning over to let the Slayer in, he sat up and put the key in the ignition. “Cross your fingers, luv.”
The car turned over without the slightest prodding on the vampire’s part, and a grin lit his face.
“Good girl,” he praised, giving the dash a loving pat.
He was just about to put
the car in drive when Buffy spoke.
“Spike?”
“Yeah, pet?”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
“I don’t know why
you’re helping me…but…I just wanted to say… thanks.”
Her head was down, contemplating the hands that she was wringing in
nervous agitation.
Those feelings
sprung up again, and he was helpless to stop himself as he took his hand off the
gear shift and turned to her. Knowing that
he was going to be shot down, but helpless to resist, he cupped her cheek and
applied gentle pressure so that she would look at him.
A soft, wistful smile played about his lips as he regarded her. Such
a
powerhouse in so tiny a package, but right now, she looked like a confused little girl. The
attempt on her life – and by humans no less – had obviously rocked her right off
her foundation.
“Anytime, Slayer,” he
replied softly, his voice a gentle caress that swept over her and cradled her
close.
His brief words made her feel safe. As did the penetrating look he gave her. It confused her too.
Her eyes slipped from his intense stare and she pondered the unsettling thoughts racing through her mind. How could a vampire, her mortal enemy, make her feel protected? Were these confusing emotions a delayed aspect of Willow’s spell from a few weeks ago? On the one hand, she hoped so…after the heartbreak of Riley’s defection, she was scared that she could be feeling this way about someone…let alone another vampire. And a self-professed evil one at that.
But, on the
other hand, she had to know if anything she might be feeling for Spike could be guided by a
spell.
She felt his lingering
gaze on her still and lifted her head to respond to his statement.
As her eyes met his… all
those riotous thoughts simply fled in reaction.
The look he was giving her seemed to mirror her own feelings, and she
just prayed that he wasn’t witness to her own turbulent emotions.
He must have seen, though, and the Slayer watched, transfixed, as his full lips descended
towards her own.
“Buffy…” he
whispered just before they made contact. The
sound of her name whispered breathlessly from his lips caused her to close her
eyes, her lips lifting to meet his, in supplication… “Buffy”, not the
“Slayer” he usually hollered in his rough and sarcastic tone.
His lips were gentle, as if seeking her permission to
continue.
The whisper-soft touch of his open mouth on hers forced a groan to slip
from between her parted lips. Spike didn’t take advantage of her now-open mouth, just
continued to lightly brush his lips back and forth across hers, like he had all
the time in the world and they didn’t need to be rushing off to find a place
to hide. Buffy sat there,
immobilized, allowing him to linger, while her body thrummed beneath his touch.
Then his tongue darted out to trace the outline of her lips, and Buffy was lost. A heady throb began at the apex of her thighs, her heart kicked into double time. Goose bumps broke out over her flesh and she felt a moistness between her legs.
And he was only kissing her.
And rather chastely at that!
Spike inhaled the pungent smell of her arousal and groaned. Knowing that she was just as caught up in everything as he broke the control he’d been exerting over himself. His other hand lifted to cradle her jaw, needing to touch her, if only like this.
Buffy was helpless to stop him as he angled her head slightly and sealed his lips to hers. Her mouth was open, eager for the tongue that finally slipped inside to mate with hers.
It all came back to him at
that moment. Every last touch they had shared under Willow’s spell.
How in
tune they were with the other’s wants and needs. A groan sounded, hers, only to be captured by his mouth.
She leaned into him and Spike couldn’t resist pulling her
across the front seat to lie flush against his hard body. This time, it was he that groaned, the feel of having her
nestled against him wrecking havoc on emotions already out of control.
Over and over his tongue penetrated her mouth, as if intimating other
things he wanted so much to be doing. His
hands roamed over her back before sliding lower to cup her ass, grinding her mound into
his straining erection.
Abruptly, he stopped.
He tore his mouth from hers, sucking in unneeded gulps of air as he
tried to cool his ardor. As Buffy moaned plaintively from the loss of contact, he was half tempted
to ignore his sudden bout of conscience. But,
if something happened to her friends as they sat there necking in his car,
she’d never forgive herself…or him. He
could hear her heart pounding in her chest as she lay against him.
“As much as I’d like
to stay here and see where this thing is leading, we need to go, luv. You’d
never forgive yourself if something were to happen to your friends.”
Her eyes went wide at his words and she scrambled off of his
chest muttering, “Oh my God…I can’t believe…” as she returned to her
own seat.
“Buckle up,” he told her, trying to distract her from her self-deprecating thoughts. Ignoring the insistent throbbing in his crotch, Spike forced himself to turn away from her and put the car in gear.
He tore
out of the warehouse as if the hounds of hell were closing in on him.
~*~*~*~*~
“I don’t see
anything,” she remarked once they stopped, unable to keep the bitterness
out of her tone. She knew she
sounded like a teenager in a full-blow snit, but right now she didn’t care.
How could he just stop
like that? She had been so caught
up in the spell…no…wait…not a spell…just a kiss. And a toe curling one
at that! How was it that she could barely remember her name…
let alone that she was supposed to be scoping out his secret hideaway. What was it about her that she could become completely
affected during intimate moments, yet the men in her life were practically
immune… And whoa! Had she just
referred to Spike as one of her men?
He had parked the car in
the shade, which would allow him to exit in relative safety.
His scarred brow quirked as he glanced over at her, taking note of her
stiff posture as she sat ramrod straight in her seat.
Her body radiated sexual frustration, and Spike was surprised she
hadn’t done more than just attempt to flay him alive with her words.
Trying to placate her as
much as possible, he mumbled softly, “Magic, pet, remember?”
He guessed it didn’t
work when she only rolled her eyes at him.
He bit his lip to keep from laughing, if only to keep from crying.
But hell, did she think he
wasn’t suffering too? He’d
driven the past twenty minutes with his engorged cock digging into his
zipper. And, bugger it all, it
hurt! Probably had the marks to prove it.
He got out of the car, finally readjusting himself as he
did so, and walked deeper into the forest when
she failed to respond. The
sound of her door opening drifted back to him, as did the the footsteps racing
along the path to catch up with him. He stuck to the shade as he made his way to the hidden entrance to his
hideout.
Buffy watched as Spike suddenly stopped before a tree trunk
that was nearly her height in diameter. It bore several strange markings, markings
that glowed yellow as he waved his hand over the top of the trunk. The
glowing color was the only reason she had noticed them. She pulled her gaze away from the stump and watched
slack-jawed as the
trees that were before her faded into nothingness, revealing a rustic cabin
nestled into the mountainside.
Spike ignored her look of
astonishment and strode up the steps to the porch. He fingered the skeleton key on his ring and inserted it into
the deadbolt, tensing as he prepared himself for
the worst.
He was pleasantly
surprised when he stepped inside and noticed that everything appeared to be in
order. Except for a little dust,
the place appeared to have weathered his neglect of it. He walked further into the main area on his way to the
kitchen. So intent was he on
checking out the appliances and confirming their viability, he completely forgot
about the invite spell on the place.
The Slayer’s muffled
“ummpfff” as she slammed into the invisible barrier, causing him to wince
slightly.
“Spike…”she growled
from the porch.
“Er, right… sorry
‘bout that, luv. Come in, Slayer.”
The daggers shooting out from her hazel depths would have dusted him if
they’d been real…and wood. His right hand drifted to his hair to play with the locks as
he gave her a boyish grin. “I
completely forgot about the invite spell…” Her look clearly indicated she
didn’t believe him. “Wot? I did…honest.”
Buffy watched the normally
fierce vampire standing before her looking chagrined and had to bite her lip to keep from grinning
– the look
was entirely
too endearing for her peace of mind. Besides,
she was still pissed at him for being able to pull away from their earlier
embrace without any apparent hardship on his part.
Her eyes narrowed at that reminder and she fixed the vampire with a disgusted
look and turned away from him to stomp off towards the back of the cabin.
Spike’s hideaway wasn’t overly
large, but it wasn’t small either. A main living area
was to her left; a dining room that led into a kitchen was on her
right. The main room gave way to a hall that led to two bedrooms and a bathroom.
She was happy to see that both rooms were furnished with queen-sized
beds. Heaving a sigh of relief that they all weren’t going to be
cramped in a tiny one-room place, Buffy turned around and made her way back to
the front door.
A shocked gasp escaped her
lips as a cool arm shot out and wrapped itself around her waist.
Buffy found herself slammed back against the wall as Spike pressed his
body up against hers. He didn’t give her time to think or speak… just settled
his mouth over hers and hungrily devoured her lips.
Buffy moaned low in her
throat as she wended her fingers in his hair, surprised at the silky texture as it slipped through her fingertips.
She felt the bulge in his pants as he pressed himself intimately against
her and eagerly raised one leg to wrap around his lean hips, bringing him that
much closer to her. He reached down, slipping
his hand under her thigh to hold her in place, his cock nestling intimately
between her thighs and Buffy couldn’t help but moan low in her throat. Sensing he had a good grip on her, she hopped up,
wrapping
her other leg around his hip, locking her legs behind his back to hold herself in
place.
‘Oh God… he does
want me…’ was the last thought
that flitted through her brain before it shut down and the sensuous feelings
coursing along every nerve ending in her body took over.
After endless minutes, minutes spent reacquainting herself
with his mouth, Buffy tore her lips from his
to gulp in some much-needed oxygen. She
inhaled deeply, only to be brought up short as his blunt teeth nibbled their way down
her neck... and she pressed herself
closer, or tried to anyway. The feel of the shallow bites he gave her was
doing things to her. Made her wish that it was his fangs instead.
Then that thought scattered to the wind as what he was making her feel left
no room for her brain to process anything else.
Spike knew he was going to embarrass himself if he kept grinding into her damp cleft. She was quickly driving him over the edge and they both still had their clothes on.
“Oh, God… Buffy,” he
murmured against the smooth column of her throat. He was going to turn to dust if he wasn’t inside her…and
soon.
Pushing himself away from
the wall, Buffy still firmly attached to his body, he turned and strode quickly
to the first available bedroom. He
toed the door all the way open and crossed to the bed, easing her back onto the
bedspread before coming to lie down on top of her.
His hands were everywhere at once, exposing bits of flesh here… tormenting a hardened nipple through her clothing there. Buffy’s hands weren’t idle either. Her fingers worked at peeling the red button-down from his frame. With that accomplished, she attacked the button on his jeans; her eyes widened when the head of his cock suddenly appeared beneath her questing hands. Spike didn’t wear underwear. Damned if that didn’t get her wet, and eager to see the rest of him. The tee was slipped over his head and Buffy’s jaw literally dropped. Hello salty goodness!
There wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on him. Rock-hard abs and a chiseled chest – a mouthwatering sight. Her tongue darted out to swipe at lips suddenly gone dry, and completely disregarding Spike’s own attempts to get her sans shirt and bra, she leaned up and closed her mouth around one hardened nipple.
“Fuck... luv. Oh god yes!”
Buffy felt one of his hands delve into her hair, holding her in place against his chest, and grinned around the flesh in her mouth. Her tongue flicked against his nipple and she started at the growl that rumbled up from his chest. Her teeth latched onto the flesh in her mouth, hard enough that she knew upon inspection that there’d be a mark, and for one second she thought she’d hurt him.
“Harder, pet,” he growled, completely disregarding that notion, and the sound went straight to her pussy. She eagerly complied, teasing the tiny bud with her teeth before she clamped down with more pressure. He growled again, and Buffy felt his grip in her hair tighten in response. Her eyes gleamed in pure feminine satisfaction. She’d done that. She’d produced that sound.
Having done damage enough to the poor, abused piece of flesh, she trailed lips and tongue across his chest to give equal attention to the other side.
Spike was going to lose it, especially if she didn’t leave off from biting him. She had to know how much it drove his demon around the bend. He moaned low in his throat as her lips latched on to his other nipple, treating it to the same torture the last one had undergone. His eyes closed and his teeth clenched as he held himself in check. He silently commanded himself to hold it together, that he was no untried virgin, or even some wet-behind-the-ears fledge that couldn’t handle a little sexual torture.
The pep talk was all well and good until she bit him again, taking him at his word and sinking her tiny teeth into his flesh until she very nearly broke the skin.
It was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.
With a growl he thrust himself against her mound, displacing her teeth from his abused nipple. The zipper on his jeans dug into his hardened flesh but he didn’t care. The head of his cock had managed to brush against the soft skin of her abdomen. He barely felt the fingers against his crotch until his zipper had been lowered and he spilled out into her waiting hand. A hand that gripped him like it knew what it wanted. A hand that pumped him hard and fast until he was close to erupting.
Sweet bloody torment was what she was.
“Fuck... Buffy... if you don’t stop, it’s gonna be over before it’s bloody started.”
The minx didn’t even pause in her teasing. Well, she asked for it, didn’t she?
Spike pulled free of her strangle-hold grasp and shimmied down her body until his face was even with her crotch. A tiny scrap of red lace peeked out from where her jeans lay unzipped. That brief glimpse drove him as crazy as the scent she was giving off. He had to taste her, and now. Right now.
Her jeans were down around her ankles before she could offer up any protest. Her lacy underwear was like a red flag before an enraged bull. Only, he didn't want to spear her with his horns, just his mouth. The thong gave beneath the slight pressure he exerted and the muffled scent of her washed over him. His eyes were only on his prize, the darkened curls glistening with her body’s desire, and so he didn’t see her panicked expression.
“Spike?”
Her soft, wavering tone didn’t register with the vamp. Buffy stiffened as Spike’s head lowered to her exposed pussy. Surely he wasn’t going to—
“Spike!”
A shriek this time, pitched high enough to make Spike’s ears ring. He flashed her a brief look, but her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. He drew his tongue along her slit again, this time delving deep. Her hips shot off the bed, driving his tongue deeper. He chuckled, tonguing her in earnest now. From her breathless panting and the way she gripped his hair and held him in place over her mound, Spike could tell that she was enjoying herself.
He debated letting her come first before he climbed up her body and slid his cock inside her pussy. Was easy enough for him to shift his mouth to her clit and give it a few strokes with his tongue, then clamp blunt teeth around the nub as he slipped a few fingers inside her heated passage. Fingers that were instantly drenched as they slipped past her outer folds.
A handful of thrust and she was screaming his name, her body locked in the throes of release. He stroked her until she lay limp beneath him, then he slipped his fingers free and left off teasing her clit to crawl up the bed.
Spike settled on his knees between her parted legs and grasped the Slayer’s hips, drawing her up onto his lap. Her legs, having turned to jello, fell apart, opening her up further to his heated gaze. The tip of his shaft brushed along her slit, his eyes glued to her opening as he nudged his way inside. He groaned, watching the bell-shaped head disappear inside her pussy, feeling her muscles stretch to accommodate his girth.
“Bloody hell, pet, but you feel so good.”
And he’d barely penetrated her. His grip tightened on her hips and he drew her up further onto his lap, burying himself deeper inside her quim. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen, his cock disappearing slowly inside her pussy for the first time. He wanted the moment to last... forever if it could.
Unfortunately, neither he nor the Slayer could hold out for forever. Once he was in as far as he could go, he needed to move. Slow movements soon gave way to fast, then he was drawing the Slayer up so that she was sitting astride his lap and riding him for all she was worth. His jeans had yet to make it all the way off, neither had her shirt and bra. It didn't matter. His hands coaxed her to a faster rhythm, his own hips weren’t idle either, bucking up into her each time she slammed down onto his lap.
Their combined grunts and moans and pleas for “more” and “harder” and “please oh please,” intermingled together with slapping flesh. The wooden headboard cracked repeatedly against the wall.
Spike was going to come, but he wanted the Slayer with him. Wanted to feel her inner walls milk his release. His thumb found her clit and pressed hard. A few circular swipes and she stiffened above him. He took that as his signal to let go. His hand returned to her hip and then he was thrusting hard and deep, hitting her sweet spot and prolonging her orgasm. Her inner walls rippled along his length, squeezing him until he could take it no more.
He shouted her name as he poured himself inside her, his hips not stopping until he’d been wrung dry. She finally collapsed against him and he easily caught her, his arms wrapped around her back, his face pressed against her half-exposed chest. She was breathing heavily, her blood was pounding in her veins - it sounded... perfect. Gently, he lowered the both of them down to the bed. Unwilling to be separated from her just yet, he stretched out on top of her, mindful to brace most of his weight on his forearms.
She was having none of that, however, wanting to feel him on top of her. Surrounding her.
Kissing her.
She lifted her head, seeking his mouth. It met her halfway. Tongues dueled lazily, replete as they both were. Until finally, Spike broke off, already feeling himself hardening within her. If he didn’t stop, he never would. Then the Slayer’s friends would wonder where they were.
They only had two hours after all.
A few more minutes passed
in silence.
Things had changed the second he’d touched her. There was no going back. Not that either of them wanted to.
Spike felt the Slayer shift beneath him and he reluctantly
pulled out of her – stifling a groan at the loss of heat – and settled beside
her. Her heart rate had slowed from its erratic pace and her breathing had
returned to normal. He sighed needlessly, knowing that their stolen moment was over and
it was time for the two of them to get back to business. But, he was
reluctant to let it end just yet, and he cradled the Slayer close, running one hand through her hair because he couldn’t bear to stop
touching her.
By his estimation, he
figured they had been gone an hour. They
were cutting it close to the deadline Buffy had imposed.
He hated to do it – break into their happy world – but they needed to
get dressed and go get the others before the Initiative tracked them to her
watcher’s place.
His hand stilled in her
hair and he spoke.
“Buffy, luv, I hate to
say this… but, we need to get going if we’re going to make it back in
time.”
He heard her heartfelt
sigh, and had to agree… it sucked. She
nodded against his chest and moved to pull out of his arms.
He stopped her, forcing her to look at him as he slid a hand under her
chin. He didn’t say anything,
just looked at her, hoping to convey the emotions churning in his gut.
She nodded once, then moved to slip from his grasp.
They dressed in silence and Buffy waited as Spike stripped the bed and remade it with fresh sheets. She watched as he bunched the soiled linen in his arms and took it with him to the car, stowing it in the trunk. Spike was just closing the lid when she shut the front door.
“Is it locked?” she called out.
He nodded that it was and Buffy jogged down the few steps of the porch and hurried to the passenger side door.
“Ready?” he asked, once she'd seated herself and shut the door.
Buffy nodded, and Spike started the engine and put it in gear. She figured they would make it back to Sunnydale with a few minutes to spare. She could feel herself hardening as the Slayer took charge and made plans. They would have a lot of research to conduct to figure out how to take down the Initiative. Hopefully, with she and her friends tucked away in the vamp’s wilderness hideaway, they could be safe while they did so.
Maggie Walsh was going to pay for thinking she could kill her and get away with it. They all were. Sunnydale was her town. She was the one that dealt with the nasties the Hellmouth had to offer, no one else.
It was time they learned that.
~*~*~*~*~
The pair rushed inside
Giles’ apartment to see the other Scoobies ready and waiting anxiously for their
return.
“Okay… everybody grab your stuff. We gotta move,” Buffy announced. Together, the small group raced out into the early hours of darkness and towards the vampire’s car.
The End
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