A Trunk Full of Trouble

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. They got me motivated again!!


Chapter 4 – The Kiss

The ringing of a phone broke the silence. Spike grabbed her handshe she started to reach under her seat. “All this time you could have called someone to come get you, and my torment would have been over?”

Buffy gave him a ‘what’s-your-problem’ look. “Geez, would you chill?”

“Let me think about it…NO!” Spike was gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white. He would let go but he had to hold on to keep from strangling her.

“Besides, I don’t give it out so it’s probably a wrong number.” Buffy smiled as she pushed the send button. Something about making him upset made her smile. “Hello?”

“Buffy?”

“Angel?” The squeaking of her voice gave away her surprise and apprehension.

“Enjoying yourself?” At first his voice was playful but quickly turned to all business, and Buffy was currently business. “This prank has gone far enough.”

After recovering from her surprise, Buffy matched his seriousness with every consonant aowelowel. “This is NOT a prank.”

“Really now.” Angel had always done sarcasm well.

“And, Angel, this doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“Ok then, how about Spike, the vampire who is with you?” Angel still couldn’t believe it. “A vampire, Buffy. Not a kitten you found running around lost. A vampire.”

“Spike? Spike who? Besides kin kind of name is Spike? I don’t think anyone would name their cat Spike.” Buffy stuck her tongue out at the blonde next to her.

“Your kidnapper. Remember him? And potentially your murderer.” Buffy could hear his disgusted sigh. Angel may be a vampire, but he was the only one of his kind that he found acceptable. And Buffy suspected that he didn’t even like himself at times. “Buffy, where are you? Tell me, and I’ll come get you.”

“No, just butt out, Angel.” She hung up before Angel could say another word, and turned off the power to the phone. She turned in her seat to look at the driver. “Spike? Your name is Spike?”

“Shut your gob.”

“What’s a gob?” She just had to smile at him again because he looked so frustrated.

“Grrrhh…just shut up.” Spike’s thoughts were flying. There had to be other satisfying ways to kill her besides strangling her.

Shut up equaled silence, but Buffy was only able to keep quiet for a few seconds. “You’re hair isn’t even spiked.”

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They were thirteen miles down the road when they finally found a small, old-fashioned motel, the type straight out of the fifties. Spike went to check in, and even though he took a detour to the liquor store next door before returning to the car, he wasn’t happy when he came back. There had only been one room available. He was going to have to share a room with the gigantically mouthed strumpet.

At the car, he sat two six packs on the concrete to go with the bottle of Jack Daniels he already had up front, opened his trunk and grabbed the crow bar. Walking up to the passenger side of the car, he opened the door. He dreaded damaging his car and cringed in resignation.

For once silent, Buffy watched him position the crowbar, and she actually felt guilty. Even she would never admit it to him, the car was gorgeous, to die for. She had no doubt why he had stolen it.

Before making the first attempt to detach her from his precious corvette, Spike looked in her face and noticed she was starting to squirm. “Buffy…do you have the sodding key to the cuffs?”

A cute, impish smile grew on her face. “Always look in the boots.”

No matter how cute she looked at that moment, he fought thinking anything nice about her. Spike just rolled his eyes when what he really wanted to do was hit her against the side of her head. “Get the bloody hell out of my car, and get your arse to room number five.”

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Buffy looked around the room and then back at him in question.

“Bad news, goldilocks. They only had one room vacant.” Spike put his satchel of money on the bed closest to the door. “Look, this is the deal. I paid for the room for two nights. The sun is rising in about twenty minutes so I can’t take the chance driving somewhere else. So, I will be in the room during today but will leave as soon as night falls. Then you have the rest of the night and the next day. Stay as long as you want. That’s the deal, chicky.”

Turning in a circle, looking at the room, Buffy asked, “But how can I trust you to not kill me in my sleep?”

Spike quirked an eyebrow at her. “How do I know you won’t stake me?”

“Well, I’m not any good as a slayer.” Buffy chewed her lower lip.

“Hellion, I haven’t even made a pass at you let alone tried to bite you.” Spike picked up one of the two six packs of beer and handed it to her. He picked up a bottle of whiskey for himself, opened it and his firasteaste was a gulp. He looked at her again and gave a smirk that she hated to admit was adorable. “Well, wannabe slayer, we are just going to have to trust each other. Here, we’ll shake on it.” When they touched, they felt something, like touching each other came easy. A touch so natural that they held hands longer than they should have.

While still holding hands with her, Spike asked the question he felt compelled to ask. “Why did you stage your kidnapping?”

Buffy quirked an eyebrow. “Why are you called Spike?”

He dropped her hand and sat back down on the bed. For some reason, he didn’t want this girl to know that part of his past. She was a slayer-in-training. They must know what vampires do, but for some reason, he just didn’t want her associating the carnage in his first years as a vampire to who he was now. Subject change was called for. He spotted the beer and asked, “How old are you?”

“Eleven.”

Spike let out a long, suffering sigh. “Whatever.”

Buffy started to tell him that she was eighteen, but stopped. She didn’t think he gave a damn that she was underage for drinking, but if he wouldn’t at least tell her his real name, why should she tell him her age. He might even treat her like a baby or something. That she couldn’t and wouldn’t stand for.

Both still unnerved by the touch they had shared as well as the questions asked, they both lay on their respective beds, drinking beer and watching a basketball game, one of the only choices they found on TV.

With four beers under her belt, Buffy grew bold, and unfortunately playful. Unfortunately playful with a vampire in the room. Watching her slowly get drunk, Spike actually found her babbling brook of narration of the basketball game humorous and surprisingly interestingait ait a soddin’ minute, maybe he was the drunk one instead of her if he was enjoying her company.

With one of her empty bottles, she grabbed his arm and pulled him off of his bed and into an open area. “Ok, let’s have some fun.” She pushed him down so that he was sitting crossed legged on the floor and then sat opposite of him. Next she put the bottle on its side between them. “Do vampires play spin the bottle?”

“Play what?” He had no idea what she was talking about. What good was an empty beer bottle, anyway? It was…well, it was empty.

“Spin the bottle. You spin the bottle and then you have to kiss whoever it is pointing to when it stops. I can’t believe you’ve never played. I mean, you’re like ancient, aren’t you?”

“Yes, luv, I’m old but raised in the Victorian times, which was the epitome of the sexually repressed.”

“Epita what?” Just the word made her head spin. “Never mind. Do you want to try it?”

Oh, no, Spike, ole boy. Now you’re playing with fire tonight. Slayer fire, no less. But his brain must have already soaked up too much whiskey and beer because he thought he heard someone say, “Sure, let’s give it a go.” Oh, balls, it was him.

Buffy eagerly put the bottle in motion. It wasn’t until then with the bottle spinning around and around that the two drunks realized that there was only the two of them and that meant that the person spinning had two outcome options. If the bottle pointed at the spinner, the spinner has to kiss himself, on the arm or something. The other option was the bottle pointing at the person opposite from the spinner. So the chance of Buffy and Spike kissing was fifty/fifty. Pretty good odds, but noooo, neither cared about the risk of the intimate contact. Not one fig.

When the bottle came to rest, pointing straight at Spike, Buffy’s brain tried to think. Finally she went with a very conservative approach. Leaning over the bottle, she gave him a peck on the cheek. Her lips tingled after just touching his cool skin, causing her to giggle.

Spike’s cheek was warm where she had kissed him, and her giggle made him smile. To Spike’s disappointment, the heat was already leaving. He spun the bottle, and it pointed at him. Spike felt like giggling himself due to the alcohol and the absurdity of the situation. “Where shall I kiss myself, madam game master?”

Buffy clearly pretended to consider the questionI thI think you should kiss the pinky finger on your right hand.” As she spoke, she was laughing so hard she barely got out, “right hand.”

On Buffy’s turn again, she spun the bottle, and again it pointed at Spike. “Well, even though you were searching my mouth at the time, we have kissed before, haven’t we?” She nervously laughed as she leaned in and gave Spike a chaste kiss on his lips. When she pulled back, she again giggled to cover her reaction to touching him. How could a simple kiss caused tingling all over her body.

On Spike’s part, he was beginning to enjoy this ‘spin the bottle’ lark. The little chit really packed a punch in such simple kisses. What would a more serious kiss be like? He shouldn’t, but he wanted to know what other thrills lay in kisses from her. Accordingly, he anticipated his turn at spinning the bottle and sincerely hoped the bloody piece of glass pointed at Buffy.

“Looks like it’s my turn on the spin, pet.” And he spun, and it came to rest indicating Buffy. Anxious for the intimate contact, Spike reached across and hooked his finger under her chin to pull her lightly towards him. Their lips met. The kiss was still relatively chaste, but the contact was longer, he had his hand touching her, and…and he could feel the tips of her fingers on his cheek. He barely stifled a groan at her touch exploring his face. He broke the kiss before he tried to take it any farther. He pulled back and saw his desire reflected in her eyes.

All giggles were gone. All words were gone. Buffy looked down and quickly spun it before looking back into his blue eyes darkened with desire. She didn’t need to look down to see where the bottle ended up. She could tell by Spike’s smile; it was like a cat about to lick some sweet cream, and right now, she certainly wanted to be that cream.

Spike took the initiative and reached across, wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and then slowly drew her towards him, giving her time to back out if she wanted to. But he could tell; she didn’t want to.

Buffy could feel the cool skin of his hand on her neck and goosebumps raised on her arms, not because of the coolness, but because it was his touch. Their lips met, cold and fire. He had already wasted time with the three previous kisses. Spike didn’t waste any time on this one. He parted his lips and ran the tip of his tongue along her top lip and then across her bottom one. Then he followed the crack between her two lips, enticing her to open her mouth for him. He ran his tongue back again, pressing harder this time.

Buffy would have been more than happy to open her mouth for him if she hadn’t been so frozen. When the tip of his tongue touched her lip the first time, she lost all ability to think or move. All she could do was feel, feel him touching her. Finally, her brain told her lips, ‘Hey, ready for more here.’ She came out of her stupor, opening her lips so fast that it startled Spike. She quickly sent her tongue to meet his and sighed with pleasure.

Spike was taken aback. He had never had a woman sigh into his mouth at just the first touch of their tongues. Usually by the time their tongues met, clothes were beginning to fly across the room. Things usually moved fast with him and women, but not with this girl. Taking his time paid off ten fold. With his hand he urged her to tilt her head so that he could deepen the kiss, but still keeping it under control.

Buffy suddenly pulled back and just looked at him until he started to squirm under her scrutiny. Again her brain had to tell her mouth what to do. ‘Coma girl, say something.’ “That was…that was great.” Her voice came out husky, adding sincerity to her words.

Spike smiled, which she returned. Quickly taking his turn, Spike spun the bottle. Before it ever stopped, Buffy grabbed it and pointed it at herself. Smiling a sly smile, she crossed the space between them to kiss him.

One second he was spinning a beer bottle, and the next Buffy was in his lap, kissing him. He wasted no time. This kiss was very different from the others. The others were chaste and gentle. This kiss blew the others away. Buffy was devouring him with her tongue, delving far into his mouth, and he soon followed her lead. As natural as breathing, at least for her, their arms came up and wrapped around each other, holding each other tightly.

When she finally did have to take a breath, she sat there and panted, smiling at how he was needlessly panting also. Then reality reared its ugly head. She realized that she was sitting in a vampire’s lap, specifically sitting on his very large erection. She gracelessly, almost falling on her face, jumped up off him and moved to her side of the room. “I’m…er…I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what got into me.” Yes, she did. He was a gorgeous hunk of male that really knew how to kiss and push all her right buttons. It just wasn’t fair that the hunk was a vampire. “I’m just going to lie down and try to go to sleep now.”

Spike’s first reaction was to jerk Buffy back down into his lap, but then he started thinking rationally again. This was a slayer-in-training. He had been making out with a girl that one day would be trying to kill him. But to tell the truth, he didn’t regret any of those kisses. Not for one second. But he was thankful that she had gotten up because he had already been thinking about taking her right there on the floor. Even if he ever had sex with her, which wasn’t going to happen, she didn’t deserve the carpet of a shabby motel. He wanted to kick her in the arse at times, but she still didn’t deserve a floor. So when she called it quits, he put up no complaints, but he did practically limp over to his bed due to his painful hard on. “I need another drink.”

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Actually, Spike was the one who fell asleep first. Or rather, that is as soon as the pain below his waist subsided. He hadn’t even dared look at her. Buffy was close to slumber, but when she noticed he was asleep on his side, facing her, she took advantage of the opportunity. For some reason, in general Spike reminded her of Angel, and not just the vampire part. Well, duh to that. No, Spike actually saw her, Buffy, not just another slayer-in-training, not just another girl.

She looked her fill. She already knew he had stunning cobalt eyes, and that she would have never imagined a man so sexy in white blond hair. That only took her first look in his garage to know. His cheek bones were show stoppers, but it was his lips. His lips were sinfully delicious. The man should be a model, not a car thief, and she would have to be blind to not notice. Buffy fell asleep picturing just how he would look on film, or better yet, look in bed. Oh, bad Buffy.

Spike’s whole body was an alarm clock at dusk. Wakey, wakey. He could tell by his splitting headache that he had a good and proper hangover. So he opened one eye slowly to see his surroundings since one never knew where one would wake up after a good binge. Then he saw her. The golden beauty with the vicious and delicious mouth. With both eyes open, he could look at her without her mouth getting in the way. Her eyes that he knew to be hazel, her pert nose, and her lips…lips that had sent his world reeling. When he stood up, he stepped over to her bed and leaned down. He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do until he reached down and twirled a strand of her blonde hair around his finger. It was hard letting the silky strands go. But he did. She was a huge complication with a capital “C,” he reminded himself. A complication he couldn’t afford. Literally and figuratively.

Afford. With that thought in mind, he left a couple of hundreds out of the bag of money so she had money to eat and get back to the academy. He walked over to where her backpack was lying and laid the bills next to it. The backpack was open, and surprising himself, he took a souvenir. Her perfume would remind him of the spit fihat hat made his world spin. After looking at her one last time, he threw his duster over his arm, picked up the bag with the money, and left.

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TBC