His Slayer

CHAPTER 7

Buffy walked up to Giles' swanky new bachelor pad early the next morning. She had woken up early, and had actually been able to cook breakfast for Dawn before her sister left for school. Buffy was eager to talk to s, as, as she kept thinking about her conversation with Dawn the previous night.

"Knock, knock," Buffy called through the partially open window next to the front door. "Giles, are you up yet?" Rustling came from down the hall. "Giles, it's me." She heard the creaking of the floor in the hall. The person who came into view was NOT Giles. "Spike!" And it was. Jeans. Barefoot. No shirt. Buffy realized she was staring at him.

"Bloody hell, Slayer. It's sleepin' time for the heartbeat-impaired. What's your bloomin' problem?"

"Spike! What are you doing in Giles' apartment? Why are you undressed? And where is Giles? If you've done something--"

"Cripes, Slayer, don't get you knickers in a twist! Watcher's fine. Said he was goin' to the shop early this mornin'. Rupert's lettin' me shack up here while I'm in town. Anything else?"

"Spike, let me in. I want to know why Giles has accepted you back like you did nothing. What's going on?"

He opened the door. "Please, come in, your highnessness."


* * *

"Giles, you bastard!" Buffy shoved open the door to the Magic Box. "No more secrets! Isn't that what we said? Didn't we just talk about that the other day?"

"Buffy, well, you see--"

"Giles, is it true?"

"Yes, yes, it was a favor to--"

Buffy cut in. "No! I know why you didn't tell me. But Giles, is it true he's got a soul?"

"Well, yes, actually. I ran some rather extensive tests, and--"

"But how, if he wasn't cursed?"

"Comin' through!" Spike entered the shop in a blur of smoking blanket. He tossed it aside and looked himself over for damage. "Bloody hell!"

Giles stared at the slightly singed vampire for a second. "Buffy, didn't you ask Spike?"

"He--"

Spike cut her off. "She wouldn't let me finish the whole story, mate. Just ran off into the bloody sunlight."

Giles looked from Spike to Buffy. "Buffy, I apologize, again. I'm terribly sorry. But I believe you two need to continue your talk from last night. And, if I may be so bold," here he stared pointedly at Spike, "the whole story ought to be told. The training room's free, I believe."

Buffy looked at Giles, her mouth open a bit. "But--"

"C'mon Slayer. Lets go."

Giles finally breathed a sigh of relief, when, several minutes later, there was still no sound of violence through the door of the training room. *Of course, vampires don't make a great deal of noise when they are staked. I wonder...*


* * *

It was nearly two hours later when the door of the training room opened, and a subdued looking vampire and a slightly annoyed Slayer walked out. With all body parts intact. Giles relaxed minutely.

"Giles, you and I are still not okay. We will have a talk about this. But not now. I need to go home and process this overload of weirdness. And I still don't trust Spike. I don't want him at your place all unsupervised. When it gets dark, he's moving to pla place. He can sleep in the basement."

Giles looked a little concerned. "Buffy, are you sure that's wise? Given your history, I'm not sure that is the best course."

"Giles, right now, I'm not asking for your opinion. Until further notice, don't offer it unless it's asked for."

Giles grew quite still. "Very well." Buffy left the shop, leaving two emotionally drained Englishmen in her wake. Spike was the first to speak. "Well, mate, that could have gone a little better."


* * *

CHAPTER 8

"So, Little Bit, what do you want for your birthday next week?" Spike had shown up after sunset with only a duffel bag and a ragged U-haul box. He was currently sitting on Buffy's new floral print chair. He looked quite relaxed, a picture completed by the cold beer in his hand.

Dawn went into greedy little kid mode. "Well, I was really hoping for a leather trenchcoat..." A throat-clearing from Buffy in her 'mom-mode' cut that request short. "...But anything will be fine, really." She turned and stuck her tongue out at Buffy. *Just because a long black leather coat reminds her of Spike doesn't mean I shouldn't be able to get one.*

Spike leaned over and opened his duffel bag. "Then you can consider this an early installment, not the full deal. The wrapping is a hint." He tossed a floppy, pink-wrapped package at her.

Dawn tore the wrapping paper open. "Oh my God, Spike! An autogra 'P 'Pink' concert tee shirt. Thank you so much!" She stood and went over to hug Spike.

Buffy looked on with a sour expression. *Nobody ever gives me hugs like that. Not that I was ever big with the frivolous gift-giving. Spike's going to spoil her rotten. It's not like other people get pre-birthday gifts.*

Spike reached into the duffel again and came out with a smaller, not-so brightly wrapped package. He handed it to her silently and watched her expression. *I will not be bought with gifts. Who does he think he is, strolling back into this house, trying to purchase forgiveness?* Her hands were greedily unwrapping the gift while her mind churned out negative thoughts. Inside the wrapping was a small box, the kind jewelry came in. Buffy glanced sharply at Spike. *If this is a ring, I stake him now.* She slowly opened the lid.

"Spike, it's..." *an almost identical necklace to the one Gramma Summers had promised me. The one Dad gave to that new bimbo of his, after Gramma died. I didn't realize Spike was listening the day I was all mopey 'cause I was thinking about it. He was watching 'Passions' after we had sex, and I got annoyed that he wasn't even listening to me. That was over six months ago. For him to have found this from just my description is...* "...amazing! I can't believe you got this for me. It's wonderful." Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

"You're welcome, Buffy."

Dawn watched the entire exchange with a touch of jealousy. It was Dawn’s birthday soon. Buffy's wasn't until January. And the gift! That wasn't some cheap piece of junk. She'd have to pry out of Spike how much he shelled out. But the way Buffy's entire demeanor changed was just... "Neat!"


* * *

Willow sat in the middle of her bed, hugging her knees to her chest. Her hair hung stringy and uncombed, down past the shoulders of the gray shirt she was wearing. Buffy peered through the window in the door. She listened to the doctor beside her drone on about Willow's condition.

"...and of course she's been improving for the past three months. Today she's doing quite well in pculacular. Would you like to talk to her?"

Buffy almost said no. *Sure, Doctor. I'll try to talk to my friend who's a staring zombie on the days she isn't screaming and pulling her hair out. Why yes, I'd love to talk about pleasant things with a person who watched her girlfriend die in front of her, then tried to end the world.*

"Yeah, I'll visit with her."

"Hey, Wills. How's my bestest girlfriend?" Buffy paused, as thought she actually expected a response. "Xander's doing well at work. He's the foreman at the new job site over on Pineview. He really hustles, you know. I think thb'sb's one of the few things that keeps his mind off Anya. And Spike's back. He's been helping out again for the last few days. It's a little weird. He actually has a soul. It's kind of strange to think about Spike with a soul, but kind of... nice, too."

Buffy changed topics abruptly. "And of course Dawn's doing great! School's finishing up for the quarter and she's been getting good grades. Nice of her to do her part to keep Social Services off our backs. Giles apparently had a talk with them, too, and now they understand I have some "inheritance" from a foundation in England. How long did we struggle to make ends meet? At least I know the money will be coming regular-like. Heck, I've even started putting some in a college account for Dawn. Wow. Listen to me sounding all mom-like." Buffy stopped to wipe a tear from her cheek that threatened to be joined by many others.

"I still miss Mom, you know? Even after all this time. And then, after that, when Glory took Dawn and we though it was all over, I totally wigged. And you know who got me out? You. My friend." Buffy paused, remembering. "I totally understand how you're still missing Tara. God, we all are. It doesn't seem like the Scoobies ever get an even break. I just hope you know how much we care about you."

Buffy knew she had to be more upbeat for Willow's sake. She told Willow how Spike had caught the kitchen on fire trying to make waffles for Dawn. She described Clem's new girlfriend, and the fact that Angel was in total spaz mode because Spike was living at the house. After wrapping it up with a cheerful good-bye, Buffy went over and knocked on the door to be let out. She didn't look back, so she missed the trails of tears running down Willow's cheeks.


* * *

Sunlight barely filtered through the curtains in Buffy's room. *It was bound to happen sooner or later.* That's what she told herself. All that daily exposure to him, his (relatively) even-tempered behavior, not rising to any of her jibes, and the gift! The necklace he had given her meant a great deal. She suspected he knew it would. She hadn't taken it off except to shower since he gave it to her. She toyed with it now, as it stuck to the sweaty skin of her breasts. The evening had started normally enough...


* * *

EARLIER:

"Anybody home? Stupid non-information-having demon with sharp claws!" *Dawnie said she was going to see 'Spiderman' again. She must've taken Spike along for company.* She peeled off her sweatshirt on the way to the downstairs bathroom and its enormous first aid kit. She caught her reflection if the kitchen window as she passed by. Hair mussed, three parallel gouges on her shoulder, dark stains on her yellow sports bra. *Great, another clothing loss due to the forces of darkness!* She flipped the light on in the bathroom and got the first aid kit from under the sink. She straightened back up, and looked at her reflection in the mirror. *I wonder if slaying causes premature wrinkles?*

"Need a hand, pet?" Spike had been napping in the basement when he was awakened by her arrival home.

His voice from close behind her almost caused Buffy to drop the first aid kit, and she stifled a shriek. "Spike, you asshole!" She started to turn around, but his hands firmly held her arms.

"Relax, Slayer. I'll get it." His hand reached around her and took the kit, then left her field of vision. She searched for him in the mirror in vain. She watched in the mirror as the right strap of her sports bra slid down her shoulder. Just to clear the cuts. Nothing improper. She felt the betadine sponge gently scrub the cuts, and she watched as the skin in her reflection turned brown from the disinfectant.

"Nothing too serious, ducks" Spike said approvingly.

Buffy watched as the skin around the cuts moved, and antiseptic ointment appeared, as if by magic, in the wounds. Her breathing was a little shallow. *It's the pain,* she told herself. She could hear tape being pulled off the spool, then a bandage appeared in the mirror, taped to her shoulder.

"All done love." The voice was low and sensual in her ear. She felt goosebumps rise on her neck and arms. She made as if to turn around, but again he anticipated her, and firmly but gently held her arms.

"Relax." And his hands began to knead her upper arms. Spike moved his hands up to her shoulders, avoiding her injury. He massaged her shoulders. Slowly, deeply.

Buffy moaned slightly. The hands moved up, carefully avoiding her battle injuries, and began to work the knots of muscle in her neck at the base of her skull.
"Oh. Mmm. That feels nice." She leaned back a little, willing him to increase the pressure slightly.

Spike's hands moved down her back, working her shoulder blades, then lower to the small of her back. "Mmm. Spike." She leaned back a little more, and tilted her head to on side. Invisible arms embraced her. Strong, cool hands moved over her stomach, massaging, tracing invisible patterns. Cool lips kissed the side of her neck. The hands moved up, cupping her breasts through the material of her sports bra.

Sensing what he wanted, she raised her arms over her head. She watched as the sports bra lifted by itself, went over her arms and head, then was gone. Her breasts swung free in the cool air, nipples erect. The necklace from Spike hung down between her breasts. She watched as her nipples moved, apparently on their own, as invisible thumbs massaged them. An unseen tongue traced her ear, and invisible teeth tweaked her earlobe. *Is this what it looked like when I was invisible, when Xander...* She tensed, inhaling sharply.

"Relax, Buffy. Different now that the shoe's on the other foot, ain't it?"
SpikSpike--"

"Shhh, luv." And his hands convinced her, tracing down her ribs. Moving down from her stomach, tracing the creases from her hips, through her skirt, down between her thighs.

"Uhhh." Buffy pushed forwards into his hands, increasing the pressure. She could hear him breathing in her ear, though he had no need. She knew he was aroused as well, and she pushed her hips back, seeking him. She felt the vampire through the thin material of her skirt and the thick denim of his jeans. She leaned her upper body forward and put her hands on the counter. Her necklace swung free, almost even with the tips of her nipples. "Spike, now," she demanded quietly.

"Yes, Buffy." He slid his thumbs in side the waistband of her skirt, and smoothly pulled it to the floor.

She felt his breath caress her buttocks, then his hands traced up her thighs. They slid down again, this time taking the scrap of yellow thong with them. Buffy could feel herself getting wetter. Fingertips gently traced her lips and she gasped. Teeth nibbled on her left cheek, then cool fingers slid inside her. "Uhnn, Spike."

He took a gentle nip of her cheek, and worked two fingers back and forth inside her, rotating his hand as he moved in and out. Spike heard her breathing, loudly and deeply. *That's it, luv. Enjoy it.* He reached around the front of her leg with his free hand and stroked her clit with his index finger. As Buffy began to moan loudly he smoothly slid a third finger inside her with the other two. At the same time he gently but firmly bit her on the left cheek and tweaked her clit between his thumb and index finger.

"OOOOOO!" Buffy watched her breasts shake in the mirror as she came. She thought she was going to collapse. Her knees shook as spasms wracked her body. "Oh. Oh. Oh fuck." She exhaled. She took another deep breath, then turned around to face Spike, not surpriwhenwhen there was no resistance this time.

Spike's arms slid over Buffy's smooth skin as she turned to him. He stood, and was pleasantly surprised when her lips captured his in a passionate kiss. It went on, and Spike felt Buffy's tongue reach out to explore his mouth. Her nipples brushed his chest. Eventually she pulled back. She looked at him, eyes shining, breathless. "Again?" Buffy knew she needn't have bothered asking.

And they did. On the bathroom counter. The kin fln floor. The couch in the living room. And the stairs (twice). By the time they ended up in her bed, Buffy was exhausted. Spike had a grin permanently plastered on his face. "Again, luv?"

She looked at him, incredulous. "I don't think I can."

"Good. Me neither."


* * *

Buffy awoke the next morning with a start. "Dawn," she gasped.

"Came back after we was done," came the answer from under a fluffy pillo
T
There came a knocking at the door. "Buffy, you awake?"

Buffy sat up in bed "Yeah, Dawnie."

"Good. I was wondering, why are your clothes and underwear all over the bathroom floor?"

Buffy's jaw dropped. *Oh shit!*

"And where's Spike? He isn't down in the basement."

Buffy felt dizzy. *No no no no!* A snort came from under the pillow. "Shut up," she whispered fiercely.

"And Buffy?"

"Yeah, Dawnie?" By this time she was resigned to humiliation.

"Next time you guys are going to make with the hot monkey love, please let me know ahead of time. That way I won't have to pretend that I didn't come home before you guys were done, and then have to leave again to walk around the block a few dozen times."

"Sure thing Dawnie. Anything else?"

"Whoo-hoo Spike! You are the Big Bad!"

Groans from both blondes in the bed. They lay in silence for a few moments, then Spike pulled the pillow off his face and turned towards the Slayer. "Buffy--"

She placed her finger over his lips. "Shhh. I know, Spike. I do too. Just don't say it right now, okay?"

He kissed her finger and nodded. His eyes looked at her with pure adoration.
Buffy was pretty sure hers showed the same. She got out of bed to make Dawn... lunch?


* * *