Life Serial Revisited

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Chapter 2: Sips or Shots?
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“Evenin’, pet.” His face is alight with a purely aggravating expression, that smirk just…just sitting there smirking at me! He knows he caught me doing something completely outside the Buffy rules. Dammit.

“Uhh, umm. Hi. I thought you were… I came in and you weren’t…and then with the not moving…and uhm.” I stop, take a breath. “Sorry I woke you up.” I bite my tongue to keep from saying ‘before I got to touch the rest of you.’ Shut up, shut up, Buffy! The flush that had been fading rushes up my face like wildfire as I pray Spike won’t notice.

He notices. And all of a sudden, we both notice that he is still holding my hand. Both our sets of eyes lock onto our clasped hands, mine trapped in Spike’s. I feel a tingle run clear up my arm at the solid grip he has on me. He meets my look and seems to close off those soft blue eyes… ACK. No, annoying blue eyes. But good grief, have they always been quite that blue?

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The Slayer smells like heaven and feels even better. Her little hand caught in mine, skin warm and smooth. I can feel her pulse against my fingers, thrumming double-time. She is nearly fluttering all over, trying to escape the truth of what she was doing, trying to figure out how to get that hand away from me. But I caught her and I’m not letting her off so quickly. I know full well she was standing there looking at me half, alright, fully naked and then dancing those fingers across my palm. Nearly bloody strained something not yanking her into the bed on top of me and showing her how good it felt. She could have staked me for laying my hands on her Chosen self, but damn, it might have been worth it to feel her warm body all against mine. Her eyes are wide, fear and something else flashing in those hazels. So damn beautiful. For some reason I can’t figure, gettin’ soft or something, I find myself taking pity on her and slowly releasing her hand. Must be something I see in those eyes. Also, little worried the bint will figure out I am as much affected by touching her as she is by touching me. She knows full well I still love her, or at least she should, but I’m not going to blurt it out just so she’ll hold my hand a bit longer. I’m still fighting full bleedin’ poofdom. As always lately, I strain for nonchalance, trying not to spook her into not visiting me. Would be more fun to tease her further, but I’ll hold off. Maybe later. “Thought you were a baddie, here to give me some trouble.” She doesn’t know that I was awake this whole time and I’m going to keep it that way for now. If she knows that I know, she will drop that old familiar wall down between us, the one I hated before she was gone. And I don’t even want to admit how much I don’t want that. Not even to lf alf and definitely not to her. Having her come to me nearly every night is too much to risk.

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“No, no. No trouble, no giving. Just…whoa! Sheet!” I spin around, and my cheeks heat up like they are on fire. He started sitting up - and that sheet slid lower - and damn. I almost got a helluva view. Stupid to act so modest so quickly, curse my quick reflexesI meI mentally slap myself for that thought. ‘Cause the top half looked lickable and I…argh. Time to derail that train of thought before it takes me somewhere very forbidden.

“S’alright, luv. I’m still decent. Well, you know…covered. Hold on, let me get dressed.”

“O-okay. Should I go up…?” I close my eyes tight, trying to swallow my embarrassment as well as the surging interest in turning back around and seeing just how ‘decent’ he is. I bite my tongue before I can say ‘ah-ha! I knew you were naked!’ That sure wouldn’t help with the whole keeping it a secret that I was checking you out.

“Nah. ‘m not shy, Slayer. If you’re feeling a bit nervous ‘bout being down in a dark crypt with a naked vampire, well… well, I guess you wouldn’t have come down here in the first place, now would you?” Damn that Spike. He can’t keep the pleasure out of his voice, that teasing tone. At least he doesn’t know I was staring at him slack jawed before I made the stupid decision to touch him. No, he just thinks…well, what does he think? He should really be giving me a much harder time than this for pawing at him while he was sleeping. I deserve even more teasing, and I let him do it for now without punching him into something hard, like a tree.

“Ha Ha, Spike. Just get dressed.”castcasteyeseyes upwards, thanking whoever is listening that he can’t see my face at the moment. Glancing around, I curse the fact that he doesn’t have any mirrors. Duh, Buffy. Even if he did, I wouldn’t get to see anything except my own reflection. Besides, I’m only curious. Spike turns out to have a hell of a body and I’m just a curious girl. Yep, cur-i-ous. I jump at least a foot in the air when a hand comes to rest on my shoulder. A soft cool hand that seems to linger lightly on my shoulder until I can almost feel it through the fabric. Shut UP, Buffy.

“Hello, anyone home? I said, I’m dressed, luv.” Spike’s voice is thick and sweet, and the implication is plain that this being dressed thing doesn’t have to be permanent. Since I know he doesn’t wear underwear, I also know that I am separated from the scene I just witnessed by one layer of clothing. My ears burn as I try very hard to get mad at him, but he didn’t actually say anything wrong and I just end up feeling hot all over. And not in a may. y. I swallow hard, regaining a sense of control as I turn and see Spike in his normal outfit: black t-shirt and black jeans. Only I can’t help but look a little harder at that shirt, catching hints of what I saw laid bare mere moments ago. And at those tight jeans and the view I was not given. Not to mention trying very hard not to think of how it made me feel, how it makes me feel even now.

“Oh. Uh, good. About time.” His eyes positively dance in that face of his, playful and sexy. And not sexy! I did not say sexy. And oh, he’s looking at me now like I’ve lost my mind ‘cause I’m just standing here staring at him. “I thought you were going to sleep the night away or something.” Oh jeez. Why don’t I just admit that I was here longer than he knew? That I was giving him the once-over? Okay, the twice, uh, the threetimes-over.

“How’s that, Slayer? Been here long?” Spike’s arms slowly cross over his chest as he looks down at me, eyebrow raised in infuriating fashion. Could he ever just miss what I say? Instead of coming up with an appropriately snappy and full denial-like comment, I end up fascinated by the definition of his arm muscles, biceps bulging through that black t-shirt. Why didn’t I ever really notice this before? Now what was I doing… oh, right. A reply…a good one to convince him I wasn’t here for very long.

“Nuh-uh. I just got here.” Oh yeah, that should do it. He’ll never see through that of cof cleverness. I fight the need to roll my eyes and smack myself on the forehead. I brace myself for the renewed teasing. And then he does something surprising.

He changes the subject.

“So, what does bring you to my humble abode this evening, Slayer?” Spike’s voice softens slightly. He’s being nice to me again. Sneaky bastard.

“Just…um…visiting. But if you’re busy, I can go…” I make a half-hearted move towards the ladder, hoping and praying he will…

“Not busy. rstyrsty, though. Wanna drink?” He moves toward the half-full carafe on his dresser, already assuming my answer. Which is always no. Until…

“Oh hell yes.” I have to bite my lip to not laugh out loud at the expression on his face as he turns back to me. His eyebrows shoot so high on his forehead, I catch myself wondering if you can strain an eyebrow muscle. Or is it really a muscle? Oh, damn. I don’t care. The point is, he’s really surprised. He always asks, I always say no. It’s one of our things. Only I could really go for a drink after the day I’ve had. People always say that can help when you’ve got troubles, and you can just color me troubled.

He hesitates in mid-stride, but recovers quickly from his shock. “Don’t have anything fancy with little umbrellas, Buffy. Just bourbon.”

“Okay.” I see another flicker of surprise cross his face as he takes the carafe from the dresser.

He gives me a quick once-over. Probably trying to figure out what I am thinking, why the sudden change. I’d swear he looks concerned, too. Which shouldn’t surprise me so much. I have to admit that Spike has become different around me and yet, in so many ways, still the same. Still snarky and annoying. It’s part of why I come to him. He doesn’t wear kid gloves, but he does show concern. In his own Spike way.

“Sips or shots?” I hesitate, figuring out what he means. Considering how little I ever drink, I know I won’t be able to stand the taste of the bourbon. Shots it is, then. Fast and dirty. I should really not say dirty with the state of my mind at the moment. Only, wait, I don’t know how to drink a shot. Beer didn’t go well for me and I never moved up.

“Shots.” My voice injects a question into the word and I see Spike pause before reaching into his top drawer and withdrawing two shot glasses.

“Sure about that, Slayer? Ever had a shot?” Am I wearing a sign on my forehead that simply transmits my thoughts to him? He always knows what I’m thinking, what I’m worried about.

“Oh yeah. Lotsa shots. Tons.. uh, no.” There’s really no point in trying to lie. He’ll figure it out if I try to take one and then spray the bourbon all over his face. Though that would be a funny sight. I turn my head a little to the side and look up at him. Dear god, am I flirting?? “Wanna teach me?” Holy crap. I am flirting.

I see Spike swallow, adam’s apple bobbing. I think the flirting is having an immediate effect and I am torn between being thrilled and screaming ‘what the holy hell are you up to, Miss Buffy!?’ I go with the first one.

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Does the Slayer know what she is doing? Does she have any bleedin’ idea what she does to me with a bat of those eyelashes? I am so whipped by her and she doesn’t even know it. And now, with the drinking? She doesn’t drink. I suppose some people would discourage her from starting, but I’m not her conscience, I’m a vampire and I like the sound of it. She’s come so close in the last few weeks to speaking the truth for more than a few seconds at a time. And the ability of liquor to loosen the tongue cannot be denied. I should try not to think about tongues…‘cause there’s hers. Bloody fucking hell. She is going to be the end of me one of these days.

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Spike is squirming as I lick my bottom lip, his eyes locked on it. I should not be enjoying this. I should not even be doing this. I should not…

“So, how do we start?” But I am.