Five Servings A Day

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Chapter 3: Browsing Her Knickers
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Buffy just stares at Spike blankly. He is trying to look serious, but she can see the look in his eyes. A playful, teasing look which makes her blood run cold. Spike’s being nice to her. What can this mean? And it’s possible, no, not possible, he IS flirting. Or is he just being a pervert? Is it the same thing with him? How can she tell?

“There.” Buffy points randomly across the basement.

Spike looks the direction she points and then back at the Slayer, confused.

“There?”

She nods. A lot. “Yes, there. There’s the place.”

Spike shrugs and carries the box across the room. Buffy’s eyes follow his ass as he swaggers over and bends down to set the box on the floor. Why did she not notice his tight butt before? Oh yeah. Duster. He’s always wearing that long coat and hiding his… Oh damn. Buffy spins sharply away and faces the boxes, telling herself over and over not to look at him. And definitely not to look at his butt. Off limits. She curses the fact that not all evil vampires are ugly. Why can’t Spike be all bat-faced like the Master? She certainly never looked at HIS butt. She sighs. And he’s here for another whole day after this one. That thought should fill her with dread, but instead, a very unsettling thrill shoots through her body. So not good. Back to work. Work work work.

“Now what, Slayer?” Spike is still in the spot she left him, giving her a strange look.

Buffy stammers, “Why are you still down here, anyway? Thought you would run off to catch up on Passions or something if I untied you.” She fusses with the lid of the nearest box while she waits for his answer.

Spike studies Buffy’s body language, trying to figure out how to act with her. And figure out why he cares. “Told you I would help if you untied me, luv.”

Buffy spins around, looking for the sarcasm and finding only an unreadable expression on the vampire’s face. “Yeah, but you’re all evil. You’d say anything to get untied.”

Spike can’t help it. He really can’t. “Like being tied up is so bad, pet. Should try it sometime.” He winks at her before she can figure out what to do with that statement. “’Sides, being evil doesn’t mean you don’t keep promises.”

“It does, too!”

“Okay, maybe. But I’m different, eh?” Spike brushes past Buffy, loving the look of utter confusion on her face. And to think he thought this weekend might be boring. Not anymore. The fun mayjustjust beginning now that he’s got the Slayer rattled. She’s awfully cute when she’s confused. “Does this box go to the same place then, Slayer?”

Buffy decides trying to figure out why Spike is acting this way is too much for her at the moment. She returns to her mantra to work, work, work. Spike holds the box in front of him, waiting for direction. His biceps at work make his t-shirt tighten on his arms and Buffy wishes to God she had not noticed.

“Um, yeah. I need to, uh, move those boxes out from under the stairs over here into the light so I can go through them. It’s less spider-y.” Buffy shudders at the thought.

“Less spider-y? Y’know, for the Slayer, you are squeamish about the weirdest things.” Spike doesn’t stop, though. He drops his current box in the middle of the floor as Buffy sits cross-legged in front of the first one to start sorting it.

Ten minutes later, Spike has all the boxes out from under the stairs, but Buffy is still flipping through the contents of the very first box. Wiping dirt and cobwebs off his t-shirt and jeans, Spike wanders back over to Buffy, peeking over her shoulder.

Buffy has a stack of pictures in her hands. She flips through them, unaware Spike is watching. Images of a cute little blond girl with pigtails fly by, eyes sparkling. A dark-haired man is with her and Joyce in many of the pictures – at the beach, in front of the Christmas tree. Spike realizes this must be her father. He never paused before to think about why Buffy’s father wasn’t around. Never cared enough to ask, that’s for sure.

“That your Dad, then?” Buffy gasps, dropping all the pictures into her lap.

“Oh my god, Spike. Sneak up much?”

“’Ey, I can’t help it if your Slayer skills let you down. Could’ve had you for a snack by now.” He smirks down at her, tip of his tongue caught between his teeth.

“Is that all you ever think about? Biting people, drinking blood?”

Spike puts on his offended look. “Course not. Think about sex a right little bit as well.”

Buffy’s cheeks flame as she starts gathering up the pictures, deciding if she ignores him, he might go away. It has never worked before, but hey, worth a try.

Spike leans down, picks up a photo that slipped off her lap. Before she can snatch it back, he stands up with it. Round cheeks and straw blond hair done in two braids, eyes green as glass as she grins straight at the camera. Slayer before she knew she was Chosen. Must be like 8 or 9. Still something defiant in the way her chin juts out, but none of that haunted, hunted look that she wears most days now. She is free. Just a girl.

Buffy scrambles to her feet, anxious to grab the photo back. She reaches for it just as Spike hands it to her without a word. Her mouth opens as she prepares to defend herself against some snide comment, but none comes. The silence makes her more uncomfortable than anything he could say. Letting Spike see her as a kid seems like a far too intimate act. Showing a weakness. Almost like he saw her naked. Plus, he saw her Dad. Buffy braces internally for the rudeness that is Spike and again, nothing happens.

“Gonna take a shower.” Spike gestures at himself, and Buffy realizes he is a bit of a wreck. Dust in his hair, dirt streaked on his arms and on his face. She nods and he turns to leave the basement.

As Spike heads up the stairs, Buffy realizes she didn’t even question him. He’ll think she’s getting soft. “Stay the hell out of my room while you’re up there, Spike! You hear me?”

“Of course I can hear you. You’re bloody yelling. Think I’m gonna browse your knickers or somethin’?” Spike ducks his head back down to look at Buffy.

“You could! I mean, you can’t, but you would. With the knickers. No browsing my…just no browsing. Or I’ll come up there and…” She trails off, realizing nothing she says will be taken the right way. “…and stop you.”

“Oh Slayer, don’t tease.” With a low chuckle, Spike disappears from sight. A few minutes later, Buffy hears the water start to run in the pipes above her head. Naked. Yep, Spike is naked in her house. That sure wasn’t part of the deal. She can hear Giles now, telling her the weekend would be easy. Just stay out of his way. Well, she didn’t. And now she has a naked vampire in her shower.

Standing under the stream of hot water, Spike looks over the selection of shampoos and soaps in the shower. He mutters to himself, “Gonna smell like a flower or a piece of fruit no matter what I do here.” Reaching for the last bottle, he sees it is shampoo. Dove. “Smells like a bird or what?” Flipping the lid, Spike sniffs it and smiles. “Finally, something that just smells like bloody soap.” Scrubbing the shampoo into his hair, he lets his mind wander to the tightly wound Slayer two floors below him. Since he’s stuck with her for two days, it seemed like a good idea to not get her so pissed she ‘accidentally’ staked him. But the electricity that popped and crackled between them down in the basement was unexpected. For once, their back-and-forth took a turn away from a knockdown fight into something else. Almost a flirtation? Spike shakes his head. “Bloody crazy. Slayer would rather poke her own eyes out than look at me that way. And me, I’d rather flambé on the back porch.” Spike turns back to rinsing his hair out, but he can’t help but think that he almost didn’t even convince himself that time. Truth is, Slayer is cute. And so damn aggravating. Just not gonna tell her that. Well, except maybe the second thing. Spike grins as he turns to giving his body a good scrub, looking forward to their next round.

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Buffy stares into the box, overwhelmed by the piles of paper and miscellaneous junk. “Can’t believe Mom thought I could sort this stuff. Packed by monkeys, I’d swear.” Standing up, Buffy brushes off her pants. Suddenly, she hears the water cut off and stares up at the ceiling. She sets her jaw and decides she will not participate in Spike’s little jokes this time. Ignore him, treat him like the evil thing he is. And above all, stop thinking of him naked.

With a sigh, Buffompsomps up to the kitchen. Not one more thought about the vampire with stupid hair. She goes out on the back porch, knowing at least that he can’t follow her there. Sitting on the back steps, she hatches a plan. A plan to keep Spike away from her so he can’t give her those lowdown tinglies.

Slamming back into the house, Buffy heads through the dining room to the foot of the stairs. She starts yelling before she turns the corner, “Spike! Spike, I’m going to – AAGH!” Buffy hits the ground flat on her butt after slamming into Spike as he rounded the corner.

“Damn it, Slayer. Watch where the hell you’re going!” Spike rubs his chin where Buffy’s head cracked into him. “And stop your bloody screeching. What do you want?”

Buffy feels the heat rise up in her face, only this time it is anger. No, it’s fury. How could she have been thinking of him at all? He’s evil and not just that, a jerk. She’s the one that hit the floor, not him.

Getting to her feet, Buffy jabs Spike in the chest. Yowch, that was hard. “In there, Spike. Now.”

Spike looks over his shoulder toward the living room. When he turns back around, Buffy is gone and he hears her footsteps on the basement stairs. “What the hell?” Spike debates whether he should stand right where he is or amble towards the living room. Remember his aversion to being staked through the heart, he turns toward the living room.

Moments later, Buffy storms back in with the ropes in hand. Spike grins, tongue curbehibehind his front teeth. “Are we playing those bondage games now, luv?” His comment is met by a stony silence as Buffy points toward a chair. The grin slowly fades. “Guess not.”

With a heavy sigh, Spike flops down into the chair. “Hands. Give me your hands.” Buffy’s voice is flat and laced with aggravation. Playtime appears to be over. Spike holds out his hands together.

“Slayer, not sure I’m ready to hold hands yet. Maybe we should get to know each other fir – OW!” The sound of rope zipping across skin is audible. “Planning on leaving any skin behind when you’re done there?” Spike scowls up at Buffy, wondering what got her in such a state. She was almost fun to talk to in the basement and now this. If there’s anything Spike hates, it’s the silent treatment. “Vow of silence, is it? Chastity can’t be far behind…” Nothing. He gets no reaction.

His hands secured, Buffy moves to the back of the chair, looping rope around his chest and tying it snugly behind him. “Buffy, luv, I thought we were past this whole tying Spike up thing. What happened?”

Buffy comes back around to stand in front of the neatly trussed vampire. “You happened, Spike. I almost forgot how you are, what you are. I won’t do it again. I’m leaving for a little while, and you are not. If you’re not right here when I get back, I will hunt you down like a dog. Got it?”

Spike opens his mouth to sass her, but Buffy leans forward, eyes flashing. “Got it?”

“Yeah, whatever. Got nowhere to go anyway, pet. Allergic to sunlight, y’know?” Spike slumps against his bonds, wincing slightly where the rope cuts into his skin. “Do they have to be this tight, Slay –“

When Spike looks up, he is alone in the room. The sound of the kitchen door slamming is the only sign the Slayer was just here.

Out on the porch, Buffy ss ags against the backdoor, anger spent. She lightly bangs her head against the door. “God, he smelled good.” She pushes herself off the door with a sigh. “Damn it.”

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Author's Note: Thanks so much for the great response to this fic so far! So happy to hear you are enjoying it. I've got yet another WIP (yes, three WIPs at once - what was I thinking?) which I may post here as well, since this one and Shot in the Dark have been well-received. Thanks! -Tiana