Rebel Prince

Chapter 22

“You’re just too good to me.”

“Peaches never carried you home through the streets of Sunnydale, now did he?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“He’s been known as a lot of things, but that sod’s never been as gallant as yours truly.”

“You’ve definitely got chivalry down,” Buffy smirked as Spike lowered her from his arms. Once her feet landed on the floor of their crypt, she stepped forward to rest her head against his chest. “Does the Angel bashing ever get old for you? You’ve hated him for decades.”

“It gets more and more enjoyable as the years pass. In fact, next year is looking exceptionally promising already.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” she teased. Sliding her hands up his body, Buffy tilted his head downward so she could give him a kiss.

"But you love it."

"You're totally right. I do." Between snickers, she continued to lazily explore his mouth. “I love everything about you, Spike.”

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Well...no. My head's full of bumps, I'm starving and really beat. It all makes me wonder about the things that Faith did or could’ve done in my body."

"Oh? Why do you say that?"

"It just seems clear to me that she didn't curl up on a couch somewhere for some alone time with a TV. I mean, smell me. I smell funny, don't I?"

"I wasn't going to bring it up," Spike said, wrapping his arms around her lower back. "I figured I'd coax you into the shower in a few minutes."

"Do you think she got drunk? Could this be a hangover?"

"Baby hasn’t had her first hangover? Remind me to pop your cherry later. We’ll have you hugging the toilet all night long.”

"But not everyone has to hug toilets, right? Maybe I am drunk or uh, tipsy, but I have a strong stomach."

"Okay, maybe you have a strong stomach." Rolling his eyes, Spike tucked Buffy's hair behind her ears. "Tell me about your musings on Faith. You think she did something bad, yes?”

"Something very, very bad."

“But you don’t know what.”

“No,” Buffy frowned. “Who really does know besides her?”

"The people who were around her. I had the witches poke around for us. They played detective and hopefully found us a few clues."

"Oh, so that's what you and Tara were being so secretive about..."

"No, not secretive. Didn't want to upset you over nothing.”

“It may not be ‘nothing’. With Faith it is never ‘nothing’. I can’t be that lucky.”

“We’ve had enough turmoil and mayhem for one day. Let’s not no say another word about that floozy until tomorrow.”

“But that’s my life, Spike,” Buffy whined, hiding her face into his shirt. “At least once a week there’s some sort of chaotic event. God, and lately it’s been one thing after another. I barely have enough time to catch my breath--.”

“Giving you all the more reason to take it easy whenever you can. It’s called procrastination, Slayer. Use it. Why go looking for trouble? ”

“Because then I can have the upper hand when Mr. Trouble thoroughly kicks my ass on Tuesday.”

Chuckling, Spike led her towards their kitchen area with his arm around her waist. “You need to unwind, pet.”

“Have you been talking to F-uh, to she who will not be named? Because she always said I was--.”

“A stuck-up tight-ass with no sense of fun?”

“It’s not true, is it?”

“No, of course not,” he snorted, looking into the refrigerator. “I’m just saying you should unwind as code for ‘let me get in your knickers’.”

“It’d probably get the job done, wouldn’t it?” With a laugh, she leaned against the old table that acted as their countertop. “So, whatcha making me?”

“A sandwich. It’s quick and easy, but it’ll make you full. What do you want in it?”

“Turkey. No mayo, just mustard.”

“Coming up.” As Spike prepared her meal, Buffy looked on with a smile that spread from ear to ear. “Is there something you’re finding particularly amusing? Care to let me in on the joke?”

“I thought it was weird to see you in an apron with my mother, but it just dawned on me that beneath the bad boy exterior, you’re nothing but a domestic goddess at heart.”

“You got that from me slapping turkey between two slices of bread?” he asked, handing Buffy her sandwich. “If that’s your definition of a domestic goddess--.”

“Okay, I’ll admit I was stretching a little for the sake of a joke, but still, it’s strange to see my formerly most evil enemy acting so…normal, so hu--.”

“Don’t even say it.” After putting away the ingredients he had been using, Spike reached for a bag of blood and a box of crackers. “Say that I’m acting like a human and I’ll do everything in my power to make you think differently. We’ll sleep in a fucking coffin, there’ll be love bites with every shag, I’ll--.”

“Wear a nifty cape?” Buffy suggested with her mouth full. “Talk like Dracula by replacing your ‘w’s with ‘v’s? I vant to…ah, you get the picture. I’m okay with you talking like that. Just make sure that you don’t call me your dark princess or your mistress of the night. That’ll make me cranky.”

“And I wouldn’t want a cranky Buffy...”

“Spike, do you have to make your blood all clumpy?” Wrinkling her nose, she looked away as he crumbled crackers into his blood. “Ew, I’m eating here.”

“And I’m eating here too. You try being on a liquid diet. It’s no picnic.”

“Ha, liquid diet. You eat more solids than I do.”

“You going to nitpick at everything I do?”

“Probably. I’m tired and I smell. Nitpicking is bound to happen.”

“You full now?”

“Pretty much. Thank you for the food, honey,” Buffy said sweetly, giving Spike a kiss on the cheek before heading downstairs. “Want me to get the shower ready?”

“Sure, I’ll be down in a few.”
***

“Let’s see, what do I spy with my little eye?” After sharing a shower, Spike led Buffy to their bed. He swept her hair over her left shoulder and slid the robe that she was wearing off her shoulders. “So far so good, but I need to see more.”

“How’s this?” Buffy asked, standing just long enough to allow the robe to drop and gather at her ankles.

“A definite improvement.”

“Join me?”

“Like I could stay away.” Staying on all fours, he hovered inches above while he continued to inspect her skin. “Oh, here’s one. This is new…and this, this is a new bruise as well.”

“You know my body better than I do,” Buffy purred, running her fingers through his damp hair.

Taking her comment as a compliment, Spike smiled a close-lipped smile before searching her legs. “I might’ve given you this one…”

“You absolutely gave me that one,” she gasped once his fingers brushed against her inner thigh. Her eyes grew wider as he pushed against the two fang-shaped scars.

“Mmmm, I did, didn’t I?”

“You asking me trick questions?”

“My feelings would’ve been hurt if you had forgotten how you received that particular mark.”

“I didn’t forget. I doubt that it’s even possible.”

“You flatter me,” he whispered, outlining her bottom lip with his thumb.

“I’m not lying. It’s what I think about when I’m bored in class.”

“You think about it?”

“Is it too hard to believe?” Pulling him down, she wiggled until she was comfortably sheltered underneath his weight. “So, what do you think?”

“Other than the blows you took to the head, you seem to be in top shape to me.”

“And that,” she mumbled, brushing kisses on his face, “coming from he who knows all about my body…is something that I’m happy to hear.”

“You really—in a classroom of tens, sometimes hundreds—you really think of me?”

“I think of you,” Buffy insisted with a laugh. “I think about your fingers, lips, teeth, eyes, elbows—I could go on and on.”

“Please do. It’ll give me fuel for my fantasies when you leave me tomorrow.”

“I’d rather be with you.”

“Don’t, or I’ll make you stay.”

“You’d make me?”

“Tie you to the bed.”

“I’d get a rope burn.”

“Not if you didn’t put up a fight. Not if we used scarves,” he said, biting his lower lip.

“You…do you have a lot of experience with that kind of stuff?”

“What do you think? Remember, I’ve been around for over a hundred and twenty-six years.”

“So, you’ve been there and done just about anything?”

“And everything.”

“Wow, and I felt inexperienced before…”

“Don’t, Buffy.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“Bloody hell,” Spike groaned, rolling off her body. “Here it comes.”

“Hey, come back. I won’t say a word.” Spooning against his back, Buffy kissed his shoulders. “It’s not like I’m going to ask for a number. I don’t want to see your little black book.”

“If you did, I bet you’d be disappointed.”

“Oh. Well, I-I’d understand, you’ve been around for a very, very long time. It only makes sense that you have a very, very long list of lovers.”

“Didn’t you say you were tired? Go to sleep.”

“Is it that bad? Spike—okay, you don’t have to tell me. Gah, yes you do! Spike! Now the suspense is killing me! Please?”

“Go to sleep,” he said, taking the pillow from under his head and using it to cover his face.

“Please? Please? Baby? Honey? Uh…sweetie?” She attempted to nudge him onto his back, but he refused to cooperate. “Will you at least take the pillow away? You can tell me, Spike. I won’t wig, I promise. I’m sure since you’ve been a-around that you’ll easily double—triple, uh, have more than my measly two. Because let’s say that you just had two dates a year, that’d be um…fifty—sixty…um, something in that family...”

“Sixty-three, pet.”

“Thanks, Willow used to do all the math when we’d calculate Angel’s past flings.”

“You use to calculate…never mind, I’m not surprised.” Returning the pillow under his head, he finally turned to face her. “What number did you decide on with Chuckles? Did he ever give you a yay or nay?”

“I never asked. We didn’t share as much as you’d think.”

“He’s not really a talker when he’s souled up. Now, when he’s Angelus--.”

“I know, he was a total motor mouth,” Buffy added, rolling her eyes.

“Would it really make you feel better if I gave you a number?” Spike asked softly, bringing her closer with an arm around her waist.

“I’d let you round down a little to protect my feelings.”

“We’re even, Buffy.”

“We’re…even? Do you mean eleven?”

“No, two and one was usually fell into the realm of non-consensual, but you make three. That makes us even. Three for three. And if it helps, you’re my first human to boot.”

“Non-consensual?”

“Ever thought about what it’d take to make a shy poet into a monster named Spike, who impales people with railroad spikes? Sure there are the merger effects of just being vamped, the lost soul, unbeating heart and whatnot, but after I was changed, I wasn’t any different from the jerks you stake the moment they pop out of the ground.”

“Dru and Angel…”

“Without them, Darla included, I wouldn’t be here though. We went our separate ways, but they got me through the early years. And it explains the Angel bashing, now doesn’t it?”

“And the insecurities.”

“Hey--.”

“This means so much to me,” Buffy whispered, holding a hand to his cheek.

“Are you disappointed that I’m not the man-whore that you were expecting?”

“No. A world of no.” She let out a laugh before Spike kissed her mouth.

“Can we sleep now, Buffy?’

“Sure, I’ve been sleepy for awhile now,” Buffy yawned, resting her head against his chest. “You were the one who insisted that we stay up talking.”

“Bite me, Slayer.”

“Maybe…in the morning though. I love you, Spike.”

“Love you too, Buffy.”
***

A/N: Harmony? Harmony, who? :D