Adult-FanFiction.org : Buffy

For the Touch of a Master's Hand	By : wlkellogg Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5724 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I don't make any money off of this story (though I wish I did)

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
**I know this one's short, but there is more coming. I promise. And my love for my reviewers now extends to a third lovely soul. As before, this is un-beta'd and so all mistakes are all me. Please feel free to comment on any glaring errors and I will consider changing them. Review!!! (please)**
Nikita looked around, the loud music and buzz of conversation pressed in on him, muffling his attempts at thought. Spike seemed completely at ease with it, lounging back in a black leather couch. Nikita was still nursing the first drink Spike had bought him. It had been a long day. Or was it days now? He had lost all track of time since meeting his new master. It had been fabulous, but he had never had a total loss of time and space before. That almost worried him, but not as much as the glares Buffy and her friends kept shooting at Spike. He found it strange that they never seemed to turn this animosity toward him, everything was directed at Spike. He was the one they considered to be the aggressor, not Nikita. It didn't make any sense. He leaned back and curled into the little pocket under the arm that Spike had draped over the back of the sofa. It didn't matter that people stared at them and whispered behind hands to keep their evaluations to themselves. He needed to be close to Spike.
Buffy came over and stood in front of the sofa, still glaring at Spike. “Alright. You've had a couple beers and you've smoked. Now, can we get this little peep show out of public?”
“You know what, Slayer? Nikita looks like he's enjoying himself, don't you think? Go on back to your friends, enjoy the evening, and let us do the same,” Spike snarled. Nikita didn't blame him for his irritation. This was the fourth attempt by Buffy or one of her lackeys to get Spike to agree to go home. He was enjoying himself, even if he wasn't pulling Spike up to grind against him on the dance floor or chatting about some inane fashion faux pas that some bimbo at the bar had committed. He was just fine basking in the glow of Spike's pleasant mood and watching the people interact around him.
“Spike. Knock it off. Seriously, the whole over protective pimp thing is getting a little old.”
“Buff, look. I'm not a pimp. Pimps make money off their girls. Pimps share. I have no intention of doing either with Niki here. Now sod off and let me enjoy showing him off a little.” Spike sounded like he was getting close to the end of his patience with the petite blonde and Nikita braced himself for his mood to shift. Buffy stood and stared at them. Finally, Giles came over and took her elbow. He leaned down and spoke softly into her ear. Spike watched with a disinterested look painted on his face. Nikita closed his eyes and focused on his hearing.
“Buffy, I suggest you let them alone for tonight. Spike will not harm him here. I understand that you are only trying to protect the boy, but, at this point, any further interference on your part will only leave him more dependent on Spike's approval. Just watch him, and if his behavior becomes any more possessive, then step in,” Giles suggested in a voice intended only for Buffy. Nikita opened his eyes and waited for Buffy's response.
“Fine. But he better get some sleep tonight. I'm taking him to the mall tomorrow to get some real clothes. It's getting a lot old seeing him run around in your castoffs,” she finally relented. Spike shrugged.
“Alright. I'll refrain from screwing him until the sun comes up. Satisfied?” he shot back. Buffy opened her mouth to reply and Giles intervened quickly.
“That's good. Buffy, lets go back to our table, shall we?” Buffy glared, but she acquiesced and allowed Giles to lead her away from Spike and Nikita.
Nikita craned his neck to look up at his master. A muscle ticked in his jaw, giving Nikita a vision of a man who was used to dealing with situations he didn't particularly enjoy because he couldn't change them. Nikita lifted a hand to touch his face softly. Spike's expression changed immediately, softening as he turned his attention to Nikita. “Don't worry, pet. I'm not upset with you.”
“I know, William... I'm getting better at telling when your anger is directed at someone else.” Just like it was every time he felt brave enough to use Spike's given name, his voice was soft and colored with warmth and emotion. The tone did amazing things to Spike's ego and even made him a little hard. “Thank you, for letting me come here tonight.”
“Of course, love. I told you you could pick the activities tonight. I'm not going to change my mind and veto something you want to do just to be a prick,” Spike insisted. Nikita smiled and snuggled deeper into Spike's half-embrace. “Unfortunately, the Slayer's right. You should go with her tomorrow to get some new clothes. You should at least have your own wardrobe.”
“I'm okay with whatever you want me to wear, really,” Nikita began. Spike silenced him with a shake of the head.
“No. I want you to have some nice clothes. I will send some money with Buffy so you can get some nice things. You deserve them. You have been a good b- erm.. kid.. and you should get to have some nice things. I mean it,” Spike replied. Nikita nodded with a slight blush.
“Okay, master,” he whispered. His voice stayed low and with the noise level, there was no worry that someone might overhear them.
“I might even ask the whelp to tag along and make sure she doesn't set you up with a nun's habit,” Spike muttered, glowering at Buffy. That sounded like something she might do to get on his nerves. Buffy noticed his expression and returned it with more to spare until Giles pointedly moved between her and Spike. Nikita smiled at the low chuckle that reverberated through his master's chest.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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For the Touch of a Master's Hand