Five Servings A Day

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Chapter 2: It’s Not Nice to Tease
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Buffy is determined to not let him see the effect he is having on her with his intense look and sharp cheekbones. “What can I say, Spike? I always get a little worked up right before I put a beatdown on a lame ass vampire.”

Spike’s eyebrows quirk up as he looks from Buffy’s hands to his lap. “Is that what the kids today are calling it? A beatdown? I’ve always called it a hand jo-”

Buffy’s hand slaps over Spike’s mouth, cutting him off in mid-word. She shakes her head. “Spike, you don’t know when to stop, do you? Tied up, chip in your head and you are STILL trying to piss off the Slayer. I can’t figure out how you managed to survive this many years. Dumb luck, I guess. Emphasis on dumb.”

Spike’s eyes darken as he meets her sharp look and Buffy swears that flickers of gold flash there. And then, a wet warmth against her hand.

“EWW! You licked me!” Buffy jumps back, pulling her now wet hand with her.

“Was gonna bite you, but didn’t want to end up dusty, luv.” Spike smirks at her before licking his lips slowly with his tongue. Slayer may be the most aggravating girl he’s ever met in his long existence, but it doesn’t make her any less delicious in a very primal sense. He can admit to himself that she ioodyoody gorgeous. He hasn’t forgotten the feel of that tight rear wriggling on his lap, her rather enthusiastic kisses and the heavy petting that followed. Still has to hate her, of course, but he doesn’t have to like her to want her.

“So gross. And pathetic. Spike, the vampire who killed two Slayers, has now licked a third. Whoop-di-do.” Buffy whirls her finger in the air with mock excitement.

“Don’t knock it, luv. This tongue is legendary.”

“Yeah, for never knowing when to stay in its mouth and shut up!”

Spike smirks in a most lascivious manner. “Keep telling yourself that, Slayer. We all know the fallback for the slow mind is the clever ‘shut up’. Got you rattled.”

Buffy is verging on furious at the smug vampire. Closing the distance between them, she swings a leg over and straddles him on the chair, face inches from his. “You think you are God’s gift, don’t you? I’m sure I will melt into a big girly puddle from being this close to you. So you kept a wackjob vamp happy for a hundred years with your manly charms. Big deal. Oh, but wait. That’s not entirely true, either. I believe Angelus had his fair share, too…oh, and every other demon that she took a shine to.” Pressing forward, Buffy’s breasts nearly graze Spike’s t-shirt as she takes his chin in her hand. “So, keep your overrated tongue to yourself and – “

Spike squirms in his ropes, desperate to knock the Slayer off his lap. Bloody bint crawling on him like a piece of playground equipment. Unfortunately, the rubbing only serves to arouse him and he feels his erection grow. Just then, the Slayer shifts on his lap and is made fully aware of his current state. Her stream of insults is interrupted by the hard length pressing against her through her thin workout pants. She hesitates, eyes wide.

“ – and, and shut up!” She pushes off Spike’s chest, breathing harder than she would like. Spike is also panting slightly as he watches the Slayer try to compose herself.

Buffy’s mind races at her reaction to Spike’s obvious erection. For her, all that is for her? But he hates her, right? It’s just ‘cause she was mean to him. He gets off on it. But boy howdy, that vamp is packing…

Deciding that talking to Spike any further is just asking for trouble, Buffy turns away without another word. Neither says a word for the space of minutes. She goes to the last box she moved and reads the side to herself. ‘Buffy’s things - childhood’. Buffy smiles and mutters to herself. “My lunchbox! Oh man, I loved that lunchbox! It’s in here, I remember!” She opens the box and starts rummaging through it casually. And then more frantically. In a few more seconds, items start flying out of the box in all directions.

“Dammit. Where’s my lunchbox??” Forgetting that Spike was there for the moment, Buffy jumps when he answers.

“Um, Slayer. Do you mind?”

Aggravated at his continued presence, Buffy spins to snap at him, but is struck dumb before she can speak. Half her girl scout uniform is draped over Spike’s head and her favorite teddy bear has landed in his lap. Her previous anger with him is disrupted by her insane need to giggle at the sight before her. She covers her mouth as the laughter erupts and Spike scowls more. He shakes his head violently, dislodging the uniform, and it flutters to the ground. Buffy takes a few steps back towards him, still giggling quietly and reaches for the teddy bear. Her finger grazes Spike’s still straining erection and they both jump. Buffy blushes three shades of crimson as she backs quickly towards the box. The muscles in Spike’s neck tighten as she moves away from him, leaving him most uncomfortable and painfully constricted. “Uh, sorry.” Turning away from his piercing gaze, Buffy returns to the box, kneeling beside it. This time she takes the things out and puts them to the side instead of flinging them willy nilly. A minute later, she sighs and drops back to sit on her heels. She looks around the pile of toys and mementos, her face drawn down into a frown.

Completely pissed at himself for reacting to her and pissed at her for teasing him, Spike sits and stews in his chair. But then, she looks behind her a little and he can see the expression on her face.

Before he can stop himself, he blurts it out. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…it’s not here. It was here, but it’s gone.” She sniffs pitifully.

Wishing he was free so he could kick himself, Spike asks, “What’s gone, Slayer?”

“My lunchbox. My molded plastic with thermos included Barbie lunchbox!”

“Getting all teary-eyed over a plastic box?” Spike’s snark reminds her who she is talking to and Buffy’s back tenses quickly.

“No. And didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Her voice goes hard as nails again. She wipes her eyes before starting to collect all the toys around her and shoving them back in the box. Suddenly, she stops and stands up, striding over to Spike. “You know what, that’s it. I’m so sick and tired of you. I’m done. I’ll do this later because I’d rather do it alone than have you within – “

And then, the strangest thing happens. Inexplicable to both of them, Spike interrupts. “Sorry, Slayer.” The two words hit the basement like an atomic bomb. Buffy’s mouth is still open to continue her tirade and Spike finds himself stunned at his own behavior.

Spike realizes it is no fun when the Slayer gets past the point of aggravation and just storms away. He actually likes having her around to joust with, even if it is just verbal nowadays. If apologizing will get her to go back to picking up boxes while wearing those tight pants, he will apologize ten times in a row. This floor show is too good to pass up. What amazes him is he he thinks he may actually be a little sorry.

“Um. Uh. Well. Good.” Buffy’s face is scrunched up with confusion as she looks at the vampire, wondering when he is going to take it back or make fun of her for accepting his apology. But he just looks back at her. And he’s quiet. For once.

Without another word, Buffy adjusts her top and returns to her work. With this uneasy truce in the air, she decides to continue cleaning out the basement. Her Mom is expecting these boxes sorted and transferred to plastic totes by the end of the weekend when she returns from a gallery trip. The unexpected snafu of Spike-sitting has to be worked around.

A few minutes later, Buffy realizes that he is too damn quiet. Not one sigh or lewd comment. Nothing. She glances over her shoulder quickly to find him watching her. Very closely. In fact, so closely it makes her skin go hot and her heart rate double. She looks away quickly, but the memory of those blue eyes burning into her is not easily forgotten. Suddenly, Spike just sitting there watching her is a little uncomfortable.

“Would you promise not to take off?”

His sensual voice rumbles to her and she realizes too late what a loaded question she offered. “Take off what, luv?” Mentally kicking herself, she decides to ignore his implication.

“I mean, you won’t leave the house.” She pauses. “If I untie you.” Buffy keeps her eyes on her work, afraid to let him see her face. He has a way of reading her inner thoughts that is most unsettling. If he figures out that the feel of his eyes on her body is making her hot, she will never live it down. This way, she can untie him and send him upstairs to watch television so she can work in peace. For some reason, she doesn’t think he’ll bolt. And if he does, she can just hunt him down as usual. Hopefully, the midday sunlight will be a slight deterrent to him.

Spike studies her back, wondering why the sudden change of heart. He decides to play along in the make nice game. “Promise.” His voice is approaching what she would describe as sincere and Buffy finally can’t help herself. She turns to look at him. No leer, no sarcastic grin.

She surprises Spike by agreeing more readily than she ever has before. “Okay.”

Striding over, Buffy goes around behind Spike to work on the knots she fastened earlier that morning. Unavoidably, her fingers graze his skin repeatedly as she tugs on the rope. Spike’s muscles tense and the erection he has been mentally fighting back down renews itself. Does the Slayer have to smell this damn good? Spike wants to tell her that the combination of her jasmine body lotion and the faint scent of her sweat is about to make him come in his pants, but he doesn’t think the sentiment will be taken very well.
Finally, Buffy manages to undo the ropes completely and pulls them off Spike. Uncomfortably hard in his jeans, Spike remains seated. Buffy looks at him funny, but then heads back across the basemeo heo her pile of dusty boxes.

Spike tries to distract himself so he can actually stand up without embarrassing himself. He looks away, around the basement, anywhere but at the Slayer. He hears her quiet grunts as she moves the boxes and clenches his jaw and eyes shut. That’s worse than looking at her. After a few minutes, Spike calms his body down. Standing up, he stretches his arms above his head, pulling out the kinks in his shoulders from being tied up for the last couple hours.

Buffy catches herself thinking about him again, wondering why he didn’t immediately head for the stairs and the ‘telly.’ Curiosity gets the better of her and she turns to see him stretching, eyes closed. Her breath catches in her throat as she watches the muscles shift under his tight t-shirt and reveal a slice of taut skin when his shirt pulls out of his jeans. Spike’s eyes open and she looks down and away quickly.

He saw her checking him out. When did being around the Slayer turn into a sexually charged event? Spike grins to himself. Truth be told, it always was to him. A good fight and a good shag have never been far apart.

Spike saunters over as Buffy makes herself appear busy, cursing at Giles under her breath for foisting this…this Spike on her for the weekend.

She jumps when his next words come from just a few feet away. He leans down to pick up a box, straightening to look at her. “Where do yout itt it, luv?”

“What?!” Buffy’s voice is strangled.

“The box, Slayer. Where do you want the box?” Spike swallows the smirk that wants to come out. Now THIS is fun.

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Author's Note: Glad so many folks are enjoying this new fic. Thanks for the reviews and keep 'em coming!! :) Tiana