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Full of Grace	By : agalaxyinblueeyes Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Het - Male/Female > Buffy/Spike(William) > Buffy/Spike(William) Views: 4833 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Disclaimer:

Oh how I wish Spike was mine... But he's not. :P And boo for me,
I don't own anything else except the stuff in my bedroom. And a
tape of James Marsters on Craig Kilborn from January 22, 2003 ;D
Previously:

Buffy and Spike have agreed to work together to kick Angelus's
ass, the Scooby gang think she's nuts for teaming up with him,
Spike thinks he's nuts
for not only teaming up with her but for actually contemplating
that he might like her, and Buffy? She's gonna be beggin' for
therapy when this is all over.

Note: the character of Spike was
not actually harmed in the writing of this chapter -- he just really
wants to get laid, and got a little carried away...

Full of Grace

+part three+

Shaking his head, Spike leaned back
against the stairs, scrutinizing the group before him. He'd been
here for almost half-an-hour already, and the Watcher was still
pacing around, going from book to book, mumbling to himself about
the stone in Dru's vision. So, in a fit of utter and complete
boredom, he'd taken to giving his first-time assessment of
these... kids.
The boy that the Slayer was sitting next
to... Oz? Yeah, Oz. Bright green hair. Actually, he looked pretty
cool; it was good to know that Spike wasn't the only man on earth
comfortable enough with his masculinity to wear nail polish,
although to be honest, he preferred his basic black to neon
green. The boy caught his gaze and gave a nod in his direction.
Spike nodded back. Okay. Nice, simple, easy-going type of guy.
Yeah, Spike could definitely like him. Oz shifted slightly, and
as he moved, a whiff of his scent moved towards Spike. He sniffed
slightly, catching the off-center musk, almost like the smell of
a... werewolf? The boy was a werewolf? Wow, he hadn't come across
one of them since 1926, in Germany.
The Slayer sure associated with the
strangest people.
The red-head, Willow... Oh, she looked
like a tasty little morsel... Definitely yummy. Ooh, and bonus --
scared to death of him. A regular person may have only been able
to see fear in her expression. Spike, however, could see (upon
further inspection of her quivering lower lip and fear-filled
blue-green eyes) that, despite the fact that everyone but her
boyfriend saw her as a meek, docile little girl, she was
actually... the strongest of them all. When it all came down to
it, she was the bravest, in second place only to Buffy. She was
curious and wary, but brave and intelligent. A brave, smart
little girl, even if she didn't always show it, was always a
lethal combination. He decided to himself that if it ever came
down to it, he wouldn't eat her. Turn her, maybe. But even now as
he thought about it... Eh. That probably wouldn't turn out too
well.
The brown-haired twit in the corner,
Xander -- Spike remembered him now; Angelus had offered him to
Spike as a snack the night of his impatient school raid before
Saint Vigeous -- he kept shooting him dirty glares. That is, in
between the glances that he kept shooting toward the Slayer. <
Hey... > Spike recognized that look. Hell, he'd
fucking invented that Look. Oh-ho... so
the boy was hot for Blondie, then? <Wonder what his
girl thinks of that,> he thought, smirking as he
peered at the aforementioned brunette.
Cordelia had glanced at Xander at the
exact moment that his eyes had flitted toward Buffy -- or rather,
Buffy's scoop-necked blouse -- and had just reached up to smack
the boy in the back of the head. "Eyes back in your head,
Harris, or you'll wish you were a eunich,"
he heard her whisper. Xander's eyes went wide and his face went
pale.
Oh... OH. He liked this girl. The thing
about her, was that although she seemed too well-to-do, and above
the others at this station, it was a show. She was actually
pretty insecure inside, and he could tell by the barely-there
lines on her face that she fretted over the little things, like
how her friends would react to, say, the fact that she was dating
a complete and absolute nonce. But beside all that, there was
also a core of hard steel inside her, that made her just as brave
as the others in this group. It made her a sound voice, and it
also proved that just because she happened to be gorgeous, didn't
mean she wasn't smart. In fact, she seemed to be the common sense
of the outfit, when the Watcher was off in La-La Land.
He smirked. Plus, she'd make a helluva
vampire. 'Course, since vampires were territorial and violent
anyway, he didn't see how much difference it would make.
Oops. He seemed to be having the 'nummy,
blood bag' thoughts that the Slayer had warned him about. He cast
a cautious glance toward her... and saw that she was playing with
a piece of string. Hmmm. Apparently, her affection for the
Watcher did nothing to allay the feelings of complete boredom she
felt in his presence. Spike leaned back against the stairs that
led up to the stacks, taking the time to study her silently.
She was such a scrawny little thing. Tiny
little waist, tiny little hands, tiny little arms, and feet, and
legs. How in the hell had she managed to beat him so many times?
He just didn't get it. He knew full well that the Slayer's
ancient power surged potently through her veins, under that
smooth, tan California girl skin. Hell, he could smell the sweet
intoxication of her blood right through that skin, not to mention
being on the receiving end of her aggression half the time. But
how the Higher Ups had ever managed to cram such an explosive
force into such a tiny little body was positively beyond him. It
brought a whole new meaning to the phrase, "don't judge a
book by its cover."
She kind of reminded him of the New York
Slayer that he had slain. Except for obvious things, of course.
The New Yorker... Nikki... had been from the '70s, and though she
was a pivotal force of destruction, she barely matched what this
'90s Slayer was capable of. He had respected Nikki and, though he
was loathe to admit it, he respected this Slayer, too. Buffy was
the only other opponent he had ever come across that bothered to
return his quips and innuendos, and the only one that really
matched him blow-for-blow, in speed and skill. His other rivals
(not that he had that many), vampires,
demons, or what-have-you, were just stupid, hellbent for a quick
meal, or trying to become a new Master, which, now that Angelus
was back, was never gonna happen.
He sat forward slightly, eyeing her
intently. He'd met thousands upon thousands of beautiful women in
his life, so Buffy was no exception. She wasn't explosively
beautiful -- in fact, several chits in Sweden he knew were more
gorgeous than her. Not to mention the fact that this girl was
still barely out of adolescence -- she was only seventeen. But
there was something about her, some sort of... well, he didn't
know what. It was captivating. The girl radiated the same 'don't
fuck with me' aura that he himself wore proudly, but at the same
time, there was a playful, innocent child-like quality about her
that was... almost remarkable to behold in a girl who had already
managed to die and come back once, without fangs.
She was only a girl, but her eyes had
already seen so much. She'd already grown up too fast. She was
strong, and powerful, and brave, and cunning, resourceful... She
had really thrown him for a loop the first time they'd fought.
She was an absolute anomaly. She intrigued him, and angered him,
and drove him absolutely nuts, but at the same time... that aura,
that presence she had... She drew him, sucked him in, and for
some reason, he found himself helpless to resist her. She made
him want her. She made him hunger for her. She made him aroused.
< Plus, she's got really
nice tits. > And it wasn't exactly like he could
resist a woman who shook her tits in his face half the time in
those tiny little scraps of cloth she called shirts.
Spike blinked, then bolted upright,
shaking his head in alarm and instantly coming back to himself.
Bad thoughts. BAD thoughts! Where the bloody hell had that
come from?
But now, he couldn't help it. The seed
had been planted, so to speak, and the more he looked at her, the
harder... (he winced and discreetly attempted to adjust
himself)... he got. Her eyes were just... so in depth. If he had
the chance, he could probably... literally stare into them for
hours. And her lips were so... lush, and pouty, and
nibble-worthy, which was saying something because Spike never
nibbled. Her neck was the smoothest expanse of skin he'd ever
seen, and very.... lickable. And bitable, of course, but most
especially lickable. Except for that scar that... he sniffed and
glowered... that his bastard of a great-great-grandsire had
placed on her.
Shaking it off... he was shaking it
off... <That barmy old bugger isn't around to
criticize you anymore, just shake it off... >
And moving downward... Well, he'd already
expressed his interest in her full, perky young breasts (by now,
he was throbbing), and the further down he went, the more he
wanted to say 'sod this' and just take her in front of all her
little pansy friends. Well, no, not all. Everyone except for the
redhead. She'd probably be traumatized for the rest of her life.
His eyes traveled back up after he'd
managed to get to her feet (very cute toes, by the way), and at
that very moment, she stood up and began to pace. Her legs were
long (despite the fact that she was so short -- did that make any
sense?), curved delicately and tanned, hugged by the blue jean
skirt she was wearing. She turned away from him, and he received
a pain-inducing (for his crotch, at least) view of her ass.
Tightly curved, swaying gently from side to side beneath her
skirt, and for some reason, Spike just knew
she was as tan under there as she was everywhere else. He let out
a soft growl.
Buffy felt a tingly sensation run down
her back, and instantly knew that someone was watching her. She
had two guesses as to who: it was either Xander, who she ruled
out immediately, because it looked like Cordy was about to
castrate him for gaping at her again, not to mention the fact
that he didn't exactly make her tingly, or... yeah, it was Spike.
And, hearing his growl, she groaned to herself as she realized he
was probably imagining her blood drained into a crystal goblet or
something. The thought randomly popped into her head that at any
snarky remark he made, the phrase 'eat me'
just took on a whole new meaning. He probably would, too.
She turned to face him, and at once saw
that she'd been wrong. Oh, sure, he looked hungry -- but not
bloodlust hungry. Another shiver ran down her spine as she
watched his eyes -- so blue, and so... well, something so
beautiful, and warm and full of life that an evil, soulless
vampire should not even have in the first
place -- travel down the length of her body before slowly moving
up again. When his eyes met hers and he realized she was watching
him, he didn't avert his gaze, or scowl at her, or flash fang or
anything. Instead, he made a show of slowly, hungrily, lustfully
licking his lips. Buffy watched, her eyes becoming glazed, at the
sight of his nimble pink tongue darting out to caress his soft,
pillowy lips.
<Er... clean-up on aisle
two, we have a drooler.>
Buffy blinked and quickly wrenched her
gaze away from his. <Bad Buffy. You shouldn't be
staring at the hot, sexy... er, evil, disgusting vampire. You
should be plotting ways to kill the evil, sexy -- DISGUSTING! --
vampire. Not thinking of what to do with that tongue. Definitely
not thinking of that tongue... running down your... Oooh! BAD
Buffy!>
Her gaze flickered toward his for just a
hundredth of a second, but what she did see of him made it clear
that he knew exactly what she was thinking. His head was cocked
to the side. A knowing smirk, and piercing eyes that stared a
hole directly inside of her.
Okay. She was now convinced that Spike
could read minds.
She flushed, and kept her gaze away from
his for as long as she could. Suddenly, her skin felt too hot,
and her clothing tight and restrictive. A rush of heat converged
between her legs and she gazed down at herself in horror. Why was
she reacting like this? She had gotten hot?
And all Spike had done was look at her?
In the point-two seconds that she'd glanced at him, how in the
hell could she have managed to become aroused? And why him?
She still wasn't over Angel! I-It was like... a widow getting
married an hour after her husband was buried, or something, and,
okay, so that was a really creepy analogy, but it fit. In a way,
she was a widow, because in a fit of
love-induced passion and a fear of abandonment, her Angel had
essentially died, and Angelus had resumed the throne. The fact
that Angelus seemed hellbent on simply annoying her to death
instead of actually wrapping his hands around her throat and...
okay, yeah, she wasn't actually going to finish the sentence now.
And besides. Spike? Yummy. <
I mean, EW! Gross! Yucky, icky Spike! >
Okay, the shit-eating grin on his face
was really starting to make her uncomfortable. <
Stop looking at me! > She wanted to scream. The
problem was, she had a feeling that the smile would only get
wider, and, well, her friends seemed to think she needed rehab
for bringing him here in the first place -- they would probably
only be too happy to toss her into a clinic before an apocalypse.
Their idea of doing the right thing.
So the most she could do was just sit
there and deal with it. At least until Giles finally found what
he was looking for and sent them out. She'd make sure she was
paired with Spike, just so she could beat the shit out of him if
he tried anything on her.
Uh-huh. Right.

Giles frowned as he looked over his
papers. He could have been certain that he'd left it right... there
on the desk. Or maybe he'd put it on the table. And if Xander had
used it as a napkin or something, he was gonna kill him.
Or not. His eyes lit up when he spotted
the letter he'd been looking for, for some reason lying half
halfway visible between his filing cabinet and his desk. Well,
whatever, he wasn't going to question it now. All that mattered
was that he'd found it. And as he grabbed it up and read it over,
his mind struck him with the realization. Spike had said
something about a stone. And, Powers help him, permitting he was
right about this, then this stone, this... well, rock,
was exactly what they were looking for.
Whatever this thing was capable of, he
had no doubts that Angelus and Drusilla would go to any lengths
imaginable to try and capture it.
He walked out of his office, waving the
paper around. Instantly, Buffy spun around to face him, and Spike
surged upwards on the steps, cocking his head to the side as he
moved forward. The rest of the group simply stared in confusion
when Buffy scuttled closer to Giles at Spike's approach. It...
really wasn't like their leader to run from a vamp. Particularly
the vamp that annoyed the hell out of her the most.
Spike watched Buffy hurry away from him
with a smirk on his lips. The little bint was quite the prude,
surprisingly. He'd smelled her reaction to his perusal earlier,
and now she was running away when he approached like she was
scared -- or worried -- that he was gonna take her down and fuck
the living daylights out of her. Which, hey, not
a bad idea right now. His cock was so hard it was this
close to bursting, and for some reason, the thought of soft,
warm, pliant but strong Slayer muscles under him was really
working him up. He forced back an aroused groan at the thought.
Buffy folded her arms tightly over her
chest, standing as close as possible to Giles without actually
invading his personal bubble. Her eyes briefly flickered towards
Spike, and she fought against the instant rage that enveloped her
when she saw his smug, arrogant smile. That bastard knew exactly
what he was doing to her! < Calm, Buffy, >
she grumbled to herself. < Whaling on the suddenly
helpful vampire for making you hot by barely even doing anything
is not gonna go over well. Except with Xander. >
Pfft. Like she was even gonna mention Spike's naughty looks to
Alexander Harris. Angel... Angelus had been bad enough.
She forcibly shook the thoughts from her
head. No More Thinking. If she did any more, she was going to
drive herself nuts. And Psycho Buffy couldn't save the world as
effectively as the original. < Ooh. Original
Extra-Crispy sounds good right about... argh! Focus! >
"So what's the deal, Giles? Do you
know what this thing is?" she asked, worrying her lower lip,
while at the same time trying not to
think of food, or the sexy blonde vampire who was currently still
staring holes in the back of her head. Sexy? Okay, so it wasn't
like it didn't describe him perfectly, and she'd caught herself
becoming just a little teenybopper-ish in the last few minutes
since she'd seen him checking her out. Besides, she did
think he was good-looking. She'd thought it since the first time
she'd met him.
< Oooh! Gorgeous sexy male
at... wha -- Aw, shit, he's a vampire! >
Her weekend had gone slightly downhill
from there. What with the gorgeous sexy vampire
now fully attempting to kill her. So what exactly had changed
that? The fact that they were now, generally, in the same boat?
That they were all sitting ducks until Angelus decided he wanted
to go hunting again?
She was gonna stick with the fact that he
couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of her for the moment and
leave it at that. < Feminine wiles, don't fail me
now! >
Giles 'hmm'ed softly. "I know that
it is a large rock. However, I have no knowledge of the powers it
may contain. One of my acquaintances at the museum sent me this
letter, asking if I would be able to assist in a study of some
sort. Naturally, I agreed. A work crew has managed to excavate
the large block of rock, which seems to be thousands of years
old. There is no mention in here of anything unusual, but as
always, this is Sunnydale, and we are
above a Hellmouth, so anything can happen. I wouldn't be
surprised if the stone contains the apocalypse inside of it right
now."
He turned to Spike. "You said that
Drusilla has seen this in a vision?" The vampire nodded
once, eying the Watcher with his scarred eyebrow arched.
"Can you recall exactly what she said?"
Spike frowned. In the past, he'd normally
spent hours mulling over Dru's psychotic ramblings, and had
become quite adept at ruling out what they meant -- you couldn't
live almost 120 years without picking up a few things from a
kill-happy loony. Unfortunately, since his ex-bint had become so
fondly attached to her even more psychopathic 'daddy' and all, he
hadn't exactly paid much attention to her riddles -- he'd been
more on the side of trying not to hop out of the Red Trap of Doom
and twist her head off like a bottle cap. And, unfortunately
still, that meant he'd only caught bits and pieces of her words.
Enough to get by and discover the answer, but not enough to
appease Super-Research Man.
Ah, dammit. Buffy's California girl
speech was seeping in again. Oh, and he'd called her 'Buffy'
again. Now wasn't that just a doddle?
He sighed and screwed up his brows,
thinking. "Er... I didn't get every single word she said,
but it went somethin' like... Perpetual night... Excruciating
pain... Hell on Earth... She saw Sunnyhell on fire. An' a big
demon thing with a sword stuck in 'is chest. Demons an' vamps
running rampant..." He paused and licked his lower lip, then
shrugged. "Eternal suffering. Y'know, apocalyptic visions,
same old, same old. An' tha's jus' what I was able to
translate."
Giles stopped, tilting his head
curiously. "A demon with a sword in his chest?"
Spike nodded. "Yep. That'd be about
it. She wasn't exactly one for sitting down an' explainin'
herself."
Giles frowned. "Yes, well... of
course." He turned away again and began scouting his books.
"A demon with a sword in his chest," he murmured again.
Buffy watched quietly as Giles opened a
book and began skimming. It had taken all of her might not to
look at Spike before, and it was even worse now, because she
could still feel those stupid, beady, beautiful -- wait, no, not
beautiful -- disgusting blue eyes burning pinpricks into her
body. Oh, god, it was hard to not turn
around! She just wanted to give in and look at him all she wanted
-- not because she was into him or anything. His hotness was
simply a mere technicality that she could work around. It was
because the way he was looking at her was making her... well... want
him. Well, yeah. All he'd done was look at her, and she'd gone up
about 60 degrees right then and there. Why was his nose
twitching? Was he smelling something unnatural or -- oh, shit,
she'd turned and looked at him without realizing it!
She inwardly squealed in horror and spun
around instantly. < Stupid subconsciousness! >
What the hell was going on here? How on earth could she, in the
slightest, even be attracted to Spike?
'Cause he was still... 'ew, Spike.' This was in no way natural.
He was doing something to her. With his mind, or some freaky vamp
thing like that. He was evil! He was an evil, bloodsucking,
soulless monster!
That happened to have a really tight,
cute ass.
Oh, she'd done it again. She could see
the group staring at her in bewilderment. < What?
> she wanted to ask defensively. <
So what if I wanna start spinning in circles till my head hits
the ground? It's better than listening to my
thoughts, anyway! >
How could he be affecting her this way?
She'd been fine when she'd met up with him yesterday! Well,
except during the tequila run, and wasn't she
brilliant? Faking drunk, and bringing a vampire worse than her
ex-boyfriend into the house! Okay, so Spike wasn't as bad as
Angelus was. In fact, compared to the Psycho Fish Killer, Spike
was pretty tame. As far as vampires went. But still. Evil and
soulless.
Yep.
And hot.
Sigh. Okay. She was just gonna deal with
it. Spike was hot -- factor acknowledged. There. <
Are ya happy now? > she asked her brain.
A voice from inside her head snickered
softly. < Not nearly happy enough. >
Uh-oh. Why didn't she like the sound of
that?
"Buffy?"
She jumped. "No!"
Giles frowned at her. The group stared at
her strangely, while Cordelia simply began to look bored. She'd
seen enough of Buffy's weirdness to last her a lifetime. Spike
had an eyebrow raised and there was a quirk in the corner of his
lips, indicating he was more than slightly amused. And he was
sniffing again. The hell? What was he, a bloodhound? She mentally
snorted. < Bloodhound...
okay, that was unintentional. And funny. >
"Well, er... I hope it isn't
no, as a matter of fact. I need you to go and round up as much
information as you can on this stone. Along the lines of Arcane
rituals, Latin, demon, sword..." He paused. "Hell on
earth."
Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Oh.
So... apocalypse, then?"
"Yes."
She nodded once. "Right. Gotcha. I'm
on it."
"Buffy," Giles called. He was
going to regret this, he was really going to regret this...
"Take someone with you."
She didn't stop, and without turning, she
called to Xander. "Come on, Xand, big info search. I might
let you beat up Willy the Snitch!"
Xander at once started to get up, but
Giles put out his hand, wincing. "Actually... I'd prefer it
if... Spike went with you."
The reaction was immediate, from Xander,
Buffy and Willow all at once. "WHAT?"
Spike smirked and moved closer to the
Slayer. Oooh... this was going to be fun...
"H-he commands a lot of respect in
the demon community. He is a Master from the Line of Aurelius,
Buffy. That in itself draws attention among demons, as Aurelius's
blood line tends to have a great deal of strength, as well as
intelligence."
Spike snorted. "I guess Peaches is
the black sheep, then."
A smile quirked on Xander's lips at that,
but then he remembered who had said it, and his face turned stony
again. "You can't let Bleach Boy go with Buffy! He'll
probably turn on her along the way and use her as a midnight
snack! If she has to go with him, then at least let me go along
to keep an eye on him!"
Buffy scowled. "I can take care of
myself, thank you very much, Xander Harris!"
He instantly turned on her. "Oh,
like you took care of yourself with Angel? Yeah, look how well it
turned out last time we left you alone
with a vamp!"
Buffy visibly winced, pulling back, and
Willow gazed at him, shocked. "Xander! How could you say
that to her? As if she isn't hurting enough because of this, you
have to go shove it in her face all over again? What the heck's
wrong with you?" She walked past Oz toward Buffy, unheeding
of Spike, and wrapped an arm around Buffy's shoulder.
More surprising, however, was the fact
that Cordelia jumped on the 'don't dis Buffy' bandwagon.
"Xander, that was incredibly harsh," she said,
scowling. "I mean, sure, her ex is a raving psycho loony
that's shacked up with yet another raving psycho loony" --
she paused and turned to Spike -- "No offense or anything,
but it's true."
Spike shrugged and nodded. "No harm
done."
Cordy turned back to her boyfriend.
"But it wasn't as if she knew it was gonna happen! She fell
in love and, big boohoo, it wasn't with
you. Hello? Living in the past much? Get over it, and get off her
case." Her eyes narrowed. "Unless you want
to bring out the Queen Bitch. Which you are so
close to right now, it's not even funny."
Xander's eyes darted back and forth among
the group. Okay... okay... open-mouth-insert-foot syndrome
strikes again. He knew when he was close to being killed. And
from the look of anger and slight jealousy in Cordy's eyes,
Xander had no doubt about how close to that line he really was.
Besides. Bloodthirsty vampire in the
room. And if he stepped a toe out of line, one of the girls was
sure to feed him to Spike. Instantly, he relented.
Turning to Buffy, he sighed. "I'm
sorry. I just want you to be safe. You know that."
Buffy held his gaze for a moment, then
abruptly shrugged off Willow's arm and turned away, striding to
the exit. Xander's head ducked down in defeat -- for the moment.
He was gonna need major brownie points to make up for this.
Giles hesitated for a minute, allowing
Buffy to reach the door before calling her back. "Buffy.
Take Spike with you."
Buffy spun around. "But Giles
--"
Giles narrowed his eyes. "Now,
Buffy."
"But --"
"Buffy!"
The Slayer -- the 17-year-old Chosen One
-- stomped her foot in an act of childish petulance.
"Fine!" Turning her rebellious gaze on the vampire, she
growled out, "Come on then, Peroxide Boy." She looked
at Giles again, then said sarcastically, "We have to go
scrounge up info for the side of Good."
Without waiting for his response, she
flounced out the door. Spike pinched the bridge of his nose,
instantly feeling a headache coming on. This night was gonna be a
bitch. Focusing his eyes on Xander, he slipped temporarily into
game face and snarled threateningly, low in his throat. The boy
let out a startled yelp and ducked behind his girlfriend, and
Spike smirked before shifting back again. Shifting his gaze to
Willow, he smiled and winked, then followed Buffy.

He'd been thinking to himself while the
Slayer stomped around the town in front of him, occasionally
flinging staking threats at him. Eh, he'd already gotten used to
them. They'd managed to get old.
They'd gone through every demon bar that
Spike recalled, and the breakthrough had already come at Willy's,
after Spike had needed to, er... refresh the sleazy little
bar-tender's memory. < Honestly, do a bloke a favor
once, an' they think they're scot-free! >
"I-I-I don't know much!"

he'd yelped. "I heard from a couple of guys of Angel's
that this thing was heading into town in a week's time, and that
it was pretty much gonna make everything go kablooey."
When Buffy had snarled at him and yanked him right over the bar
and onto the floor, threatening his vital organs with a painful
ending, he'd relinquished the whole of the information: a ritual
was to awaken the forthcoming apocalypse, and that blood was
necessary. As to what was so special about the stone, there was nil.
Currently, they were heading back to the
library with the information, and Buffy was muttering to herself
about right, and wrong, and blah, blah, blah. There was also a
brief snatch in there about keeping an eye on Angel's actions in
order to avoid any needless deaths for the blood ritual. Spike
was more than slightly amused at the firebrand in front of him.
Throughout the entire night, she'd been a raving Hellbitch, that
he figured was more due to the boy's idiocy than to the fact that
Spike was tagging along with her.
In the library, Spike had managed to come
to terms with himself. He could be honest, all truthful and no
bullshit. He wanted her. He wanted to tie her to a bed, and shag
her up, down, upside down, sideways, backways, and right into the
middle of next month, until both of them were screaming in
pleasure, until both of them were sated. It was as simple as
that. The woman couldn't just walk in
front of him, swaying that delicious ass from side to side,
throwing her breasts in his face at every turn, or do the most
innocent but arousing things with her tongue without expecting
him to tear the seams in his jeans.
At the moment, he'd already popped half
of them. It was a miracle that his baser mind hadn't managed to
fall out and give her a scare yet.
But the fact of the matter that his
intelligent mind was focused on at the moment, was that the girl
was still head over heels for her brooding romance novel poofter.
And he knew that Angelus hated the girl -- Buffy had instilled
the most humanity in him. And it was only natural that she and
her circle be the basis for his assault. And Spike... well, he'd
been tossed to the side, in favor of a master that had proper use
of his legs. The simple fact that he had given Dru everything
he'd ever had inside of him had gone overlooked, as far as his
former lover was concerned. His love for her had never meant
anything. And truth be told, he could kill Dru for it.
In fact... he was planning on it.
So. Buffy was focused on killing the
poof, but she was still in love with him. Angelus was focusing
every fiber of his idiotic mind on destroying Buffy, assuming he
wasn't currently engaged in any physical activities with Drusilla
at the moment. And Dru, the insane beauty, was focused on three
things only: her daddy; the degradation and destruction of the
Slayer at Daddy's hand; and the destruction of the entire world.
So Spike, as usual, was left out of the equation.
But he'd already made a way in. Buffy's
reactions to him had most certainly not gone unnoticed. Which
meant that she wasn't as cuckoo for Peaches as she thought she
was. But the problem was that Angelus had laid claim to her, so
he couldn't... shouldn't... technically do anything about it. But
if there was one thing the poof hated, it was when someone
upstarted him. When someone laid claim to what was so obviously
his.
And it was a surefire way to distract him
as well. Because Spike, in all actuality, hadn't really wanted to
become Destructo Vamp with the whole bloody planet. He'd just
gone along with it because Dru had wanted it. He liked
it here.
His eyes fluttered again to Buffy's
backside, and a smirk quirked his lips. He really
liked it here.
< An' hey, let's face it:
've always liked to piss off Peaches. Jus' for shits an' giggles.
No better way to do it than to claim his Slayer's hot little
body. >
Well. That settled it. He was going to
have to play nice with Buffy.
"OW!"
Right after she stopped hitting him.
Buffy folded her arms, scowling at him.
"Try being on the listening end when
there's a rant being directed at you."
His first reaction was to squeeze that
lovely little throat of hers. He didn't act on it. Instead, he
forced himself to calm down, then tilted his head to the side,
rubbing the stinging redness of his newly injured nose. Deciding
he would try to play the sympathy card, he sighed and ducked his
head. "Sorry. Was thinkin' 'bout Dru."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Why would
you wanna think about that ho?"
Spike felt a thundering scowl settle on
his brow at that, and he growled. "Don't call her
that."
The Slayer shrugged. "Why not? It's
true, isn't it? Why would you want to
think about her, when she's traipsing around right in front of
your nose, boning my ex?"
Spike started to reply, then stopped,
staring at her in surprise. She looked at him, raising her
eyebrows. "What? Did you think I didn't understand what you
said? You're British, not Chinese." She took a deep breath.
"Shagging is slang for screwing. And I knew it couldn't be
wrong after hearing Cordelia talking. The psycho loonies shacking
up with each other?" She looked away from him. "Angel
wasn't thrilled to death with my performance. It would only make
sense he'd go after an experienced woman. Even more sense that it
would be his childe."
Spike tilted his head. "It was your
first go-round, wasn't it, pet?"
She looked at him sharply. "Yes. And
don't call me that."
Spike ignored her. "An' he was
perfectly normal until the morning after, right?"
She nodded slowly. "Yeah..."
"Did he flood the gate?"
"Huh?"
Spike rolled his eyes. "Did he come,
Slayer?"
His eyes followed the irresistible blush
moving up her cheeks. "Uh... yeah."
"Did he scream your name?"
Her face was the hue of a tomato.
"Yes..."
Spike shrugged. "Then he lied to
you. You brought him to his knees, so he twisted your head
'round, played with your mind. Whatever he said to you, was
prolly the most hurtful thing he could think of. 'S why you went
from a bloody fantastic shag to... er, inept."
"Oh," she said softly. Her face
was still red, and she still looked embarrassed, but she also
looked slightly grateful. And then weirdness set in. "Oh.
Okay. This is frankly the most disturbing conversation I've ever
had with you. I'm stopping it. Now." She turned and started
walking again.
Spike chuckled to himself, jogging
slightly to catch up. "You brought the subject up,
pet."
"Stop calling me that." A long
pause followed before Buffy tentatively spoke up again.
"So... why?"
He looked over at her. "Why
what?"
She refrained from looking at him.
"Why are you still thinking of your ho of a
girlfriend?"
Spike frowned, then shook his head and
sighed. "I guess... 'cos I've been with her since I was
turned." He stopped, pursing his lips and thrusting his
hands into his duster's pockets as he stood in place. "I
mean... I never left her. I was always there, always there for
her, when she needed me. I loved her." He saw her look at
him skeptically and he scowled. "I did! Jus' because I don't
have a precious soddin' soul doesn't mean I don't know how to
love. Believe me, if anything, I love too bloody much. It's a
fuckin' curse."
Her gaze softened slightly. "When I
held that stake to her heart. When we were at that vampire
clique." She paused, studying him deeply. "You were
scared."
He nearly exploded. "Bloody right I
was! You were threatenin' to kill the woman I loved!" He
stared at her incredulously. "You think I care so much about
blood, about violence, murder, about killing you,
that I'd have let her just die? You think you know me so bloody
well, you think you've got my whole attitude down to a T? You
think I'm just a selfish, idiot vampire that doesn't care either
way about love or food?" He shook his head. "Well,
you're half right. I am selfish. But not
so selfish that I willingly would have given Dru up to your whole
ass-kicking brigade... thing. The only thing I know, is I loved
her. You could stake me for all I care, but so long as you didn't
touch Drusilla."
Buffy remained silent for a bit, then
followed Spike as he began to walk again. "And do you still
feel that way? I mean, with the whole her and Angelus thing going
on."
He sighed. "No matter what she's
done to me, I'm always gonna love her. She created me, she...
fuckin' raised me. She made me who I am. She believed in me,
encouraged me when I wasn't good enough for my grandsire an'
that bitch, Darla. So, yeh, Slayer, I do still feel that
way." He paused. "But 'm still gonna kill her for
fuckin' Angelus."
She let out a soft snort at that.
"Well, good. One down, Angel to go."
Spike eyed her. "You ready to kill
'im? You know it's what you gotta do."
Buffy nodded. "I'm ready. As long as
he doesn't throw me for a loop, like suddenly getting his soul
back, I'm ready." She smiled brightly as she spun to look at
him. "And then, I'm gonna kill you."
Spike cocked a brow, bemused. "You
think you're gonna kill me?"
Buffy lifted her chin, gazing at him
smugly. "I know I'm gonna kill
you."
Spike smirked. "Is that a
fact."
Without warning, he launched himself at
her, taking her down to the grass with his weight. Snarling, he
threw his head back as he slipped into game face, straddling her
waist. Buffy flailed beneath him, kicking her legs uselessly,
crying out in dismay. He leaned forward over her, his hands
grasping her arms tightly. Tilting his head to the side, he
slowly opened his mouth as he neared her throat.
And then, sudden pain as Buffy bucked up,
then threw her head forward, headbutting him. Spike let out a
stunned yell, falling back. It took him less than a second to get
back up again, and he met with Buffy's heeled boots as he did. As
he dropped back down again, he aimed a swing at her midsection,
connecting and forcing Buffy to double over in pain. For good
measure, he grabbed hold of her hips, propelling his head into
her stomach.
Buffy yelped as Spike brought her down
again, attempting to move on top of her, and she struggled,
kicking at him as hard as she could. A strangled cry from his
throat let Buffy know she'd connected, although she hadn't had
the pleasure of emasculating him: he'd been crawling up her body
when she'd hit him, and his head had almost been level with her
stomach.
Reacting quickly, before Spike could, she
used her momentum and rolled on top of him, pinning him firmly to
the ground, practically stretched on top of him. Her knees were
firm around his legs like a vice, and her hands were grasping his
arms firmly, leaving him pretty much immobile. But in no way was
he helpless. He still had his mouth.
"Slayer!" he gasped, feigning
shock. "Never thought you'd be one to take it on top!"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Shut up,
Spike."
He couldn't resist the urge to tease her
some more. "So did your precious poof ever get to see this
side of you? Or did he do the romantic thing. You know, flowers,
candles, him on top, pumping away?" An evil smirk curled his
lips. "Wonder what he would've said if you'd done this to
him? What if he saw us like this? Would
it shatter his image of innocent, naive little you? Would he have
--"
Buffy released one arm momentarily to pop
him in the nose before pinning it firmly to the ground again.
Spike growled in frustration. "Would you stop aiming for the
nose?"
"Well, maybe." He looked at her
in surprise, before her gaze hardened. "I might if you
weren't such a disgusting, perverted pig!"
"Oh, come on, it's not like you
haven't thought about this!"
"I haven't --"
"And it can't be that you're the
innocent, virginal one, 'cos we both know
that's not true --"
"How dare you!"
"Well, you're not a prude if you're
getting on top of me like this. All 'm askin' is if you rode the poofter!"
Buffy nearly shrieked in frustration and
embarrassment. "That is none of your business, family or no,
and if you think for a second that I'm gonna treat you like my
secret gossip friend, then you are sadly mistake -- eep!"
Spike had broken free of her grip and had
used her slight distraction to flip her over once again. His body
now lay cradled between her thighs, and suddenly... she was
painfully aware of Spike's state of arousal. She gazed up at him
wide-eyed.
Spike cocked his head. "Maybe you
are a bit of a prude." She huffed indignantly, and he
smiled. "Think it's time I remedied that."
Like a bolt of lightning, his head ducked
down, and he captured her lips in a hard, hungry kiss. Buffy gave
a loud squeal of shock and dismay, automatically trying to kick
him off.
But there was a problem here. A very big
problem. Well, besides the problem that was currently rubbing
briskly between her thighs.
Spike was a really
good kisser.
And eventually, Buffy's protests died
down. And soon after that, she began to kiss back.
It was really hard to stop.
Spike hadn't been able to resist the
temptation. Flipping the Slayer over, she had looked so flushed,
so rosy, so... delicious, that he just had
to give in and see if those lips were really as soft as they
looked.
Besides, he just been fighting her.
Fighting made him horny. Not to mention his new-found lust for
the young woman shifting under him at the moment. A soft groan
escaped his throat as her thigh brushed his erection. Oh, god, he
was seriously gonna need alone time after this.
More than anything, he wanted to taste
her. But he had already managed to get carried away, and so,
reluctantly, he pulled away from Buffy's intense heat. Of course
he immediately regretted it. The site of her lying underneath
him, flushed, sweating, breathing heavily, her lips already
swollen and looking throroughly kissed was enough to make him
want to just rip her clothes off right then and there.
Unfortunately, her sensibilities came
back moments after he pulled away, and her eyes widened in shock.
She began pushing at him, and Spike rolled off of her, climbing
to his feet. She gazed at him warily when he reached his hand
down, then cautiously accepted it, allowing him to pull her up.
Quickly and methodically, she brushed herself off, cursing under
her breath when she saw grass smears on the jean skirt, and
cursing louder when an old fallen leaf wouldn't cooperate and
instead crumbled in her hair.
Quickly, before she could do anything,
Spike swept behind her and brushed out her hair, pulling the
broken leaf's pieces out. Then he moved away as quickly as he'd
come, leaving her to look at him in wonder and trepidation. Then,
simultaneously, they turned and continued on toward the school.
After a moment's silence, Buffy spoke,
not looking at him. "That didn't happen," she murmured
quietly. "Got that? There was never a heat-of-the-moment
Buffy/Spike kissy moment, okay? It did NOT happen."
Spike looked at her, tilting his head as
he saw the tremor in her shoulders. His eyes moved down to her
tiny hands, and he saw that they were shaking as well. He looked
back up at her face, smirking to himself when he saw that she was
blushing insanely now. He nodded. "Got it. Didn't
happen."
She sighed in relief.
< But that doesn't mean
that it couldn't happen at all. >
Looked like he was well on his way toward
revenge.
next
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Full of Grace