Five Servings A Day

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Chapter 6: Just Making Conversation
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“Good wine, luv.” Spike takes another drink from his rapidly emptying glass, looking over the rim at Buffy. A more and more flustered and yes, tipsy, Buffy.

Buffy realizes that drinking while she’s nervous, while good at getting rid of the nervousness, is also good at tearing down her inhibitions. Bad, bad scenario with Spike in the house looking at her with those blue eyes.

“Um, yes. Thanks. I...uh, liked the label.” She blushes furiously. “Glad it tastes good, too.” Buffy turns her face back down to her plate, hoping to hide her embarrassment at blurting out the exact wrong thing. She braces herself for Spike’s snarky comment, but it doesn’t come. She peeks up at him, only to find him watching her with a look altogether too interested. Fighting the urge to squeak, she ducks back to her food. “So, do you like the food? I know you don’t have to eat, like I said before, but I hope it tastes goo -“ Buffy wishes she could find the off button on her rambling.

“Very juicy, Slayer. The way I like it.” Spike slides another piece of roast into his mouth and a stray drip of juice runs down his chin.

Without thinking, Buffy licks her own lips and nearly has to grab onto the edge of her chair to keep from going after that slow drip. She can see herself dragging her tongue up his chin and feels things get quite a bit warmer in the dining room. Blinking quickly, Buffy tries to snap herself out of the trance, thinking that drinking wine has some kind of weird effect on her. Spike catches the drip with his index finger and then darts his tongue out to lick the juice clean. She thinks he is maybe taking a bit too much time -and pleasure - in the act. Buffy jumps as she realizes she has been watching his every move, her fork dangling a bite halfway to her mouth. In her stupor, she brings the empty fork to her mouth and is startled to find nothing but metal.

“It fell off, Buffy.” Spike smiles at her, gesturing at her plate.

She laughs, too fast, too hard. “I knew that, silly!” She retrieves the piece of meat from her plate and eats it so quickly she almost chokes. “More wine?” she asks brightly, pouring herself another full glass before he can answer. Wordless, Spike holds out his almost empty glass and she fills it to the brim.

“Whoa there, pet. You’re not trying to get me drunk, now are you? Take advantage of me? Maybe tie me up again?” He winks at a now crimson red Buffy as he takes a large swallow of the wine. He won’t admit it, but the wine is making him feel rather artificially warm on the inside.

“No! No, I wouldn’t...tie you - ! Besides you don’t get drunk very easily...and the point being, I would not. I AM not. I...” Buffy splutters ineffectually for a few more seconds before taking another gulp of wine herself. Her words are starting to slide into each other with every swallow.

“Just teasing, luv. So, what else do you have planned for tonight?” Spike’s casual question elicits an immediate response.

“Nothing! I have no plans. No plans!” Buffy tries to look indignant.

“Mean you’re going to stay in with me all night, then?” Spike resists the urge to chuckle. The Slayer is so fun to tease. And he’s not above admitting that all flushed and heated up in just a skimpy tank top, she is doing a number on him. Her scent, her skin...it’s all a bit more intoxicating than the wine.

“That is not what I said. I...I don’t know my plans. I didn’t...do you always ask this many questions?”

“Just making conversation, Slayer. I’m not trying to make you nervous.”

“I am not nervous! I’m annoyed. That’s right, annoyed!” Buffy gestures at Spike, but forgets she is holding a glass nearly full of wine. A wide arc of wine splats on the tablecloth. Buffy freezes, looking at the red splotches with horror. And then, she starts to giggle. Spike laughs with her, wiping a few stray drops off his arm.

“Nice one, Buffy.” She grins, the wine making her find everything much too funny. All of a sudden, they are two friends having dinner together and drinking a bit too much wine. It’s comfortable for the space of seconds. Then, Buffy realizes she is still feeling flushed. And it’s not all wine now. She glances at Spike, noticing again how nice his arms are. Tight muscles twitching under the skin. She moves up to his shoulder. The line of his neck is tempting, begging for her mouth. His curls are mussed from laying on the couch and it makes him look so vulnerable. It falls quiet as Buffy looks him over. As her eyes move from his hair to his face, she finds blazing blue eyes meeting hers and she nearly swallows her tongue. He needs to stop doing that.

Spike tries to come up with another sassy comment, but is torn between wiping the table clean of dishes and throwing the Slayer down for a good shagging...and well, doing the exact same thing on the floor. Neither choice seems too safe to act on, though if the doe eyes she is giving him are any indication, he’s not all that far off.

Buffy’s thoughts race as she feels the wine snake into her limbs, making her feel warm and fuzzy. Especially fuzzy. All she can think is that she needs to get out of the house before she ends up tackling Spike. The proximity of the vamp inside these walls is becoming too much. Yes, she needs to get out and away from him.

“So...wanna go to the Bronze?” Buffy inwardly flinches, wondering when her mouth went on autopilot. Did she just ask Spike out on a date? She was supposed to be escaping him, not taking him somewhere loud and sweaty.

“Bronze? Sure.” Buffy’s mouth is open, halfway to taking back her invitation, but it’s too late. He accepted. Spike acts like she asks him out all the time.

“Because I can’t leave you here alone, see. You could...do stuff. And I can’t tie you up because of your wrists...and that’s all. So...I’ll just....go change!” Buffy jumps up from the table and scurries from the room, wishing she could just stop bringing up the ‘tying Spike up’ thing. She calls over her shoulder, “I’ll get the leftovers when I get back!” Making for the stairs, she doesn’t wait for a reply, just darts up and into the bathroom. Slamming the door, she leans against it, breathing hard. And not from running. The way she felt sitting near him. How badly she wanted to touch him. And how completely woozy she feels from lotsa wine. Not good. Not even in the same zip code as good. Shower, cold shower, she decides.

While Buffy shivers under an icy spray upstairs, Spike gathers up the plates and takes the leftover food into the kitchen. Unexpected kindnesses always confuse the Slayer. Plus, he feels like he should, for some reason. After a little cleaning up, Spike takes the almost empty wine bottle and his glass into the living room and sprawls on the couch. Glancing at the bottle and remembering the empty bottle he saw in the kitchen, he realizes the Slayer has had quite a bit of wine so far this evening. He grins as he sips. She must be nervous to drink. She rarely does that. Could be very interesting to see what else happens when she’s feeling a little less inhibited. Though, of course, he officially can’t stand her. Of course. Mortal enemies and all.

Twenty minutes later, the bottle is empty, and Buffy finds Spike looking rather impatient on the couch. He’s watching the TV again when he hears her arrival at the living room. The gentle scent of jasmine floats to him, tickling his nose. Always signaling the arrival of the Slayer. “It’s ‘bout time, pet. I was starting to...” As Spike stands up and turns toward Buffy, his words drift away. She looks amazing and he’s afraid it shows on his face. The slackjawed look probably gives him away.

Buffy giggles - but on the inside. She makes a note to herself - Do not drink around Spike. Makes you act all girly. “Starting to what, Spike?” Voice all innocence, Buffy blinks at Spike.

“To wonder what was taking so long. Now I see.” He smirks, eyebrows lifting in an appraising manner. Buffy is wearing a little black dress, all laced up in the back and not being shy about showing some skin. A lot of skin.

“Well, it’s hot at the Bronze. Usually.” Buffy starts to blush under his gaze and wonders if her tipsiness made her choose unwisely. s has hard to be firm on the “Spike is bad and evil” with an unknown number of glasses of wine sloshing around inside. She never feels like she is being too revealing in her clothes unless she is around Spike. Talk about undressing someone with their eyes. He’s an expert.

“Hot? Yes, it is hot.” Spike licks his bottom lip, pausing. “At the Bronze.” The temperature in the room goes up a couple degrees, it seems. Buffy turns away so he can’t see the blush grow stronger and goes to the hall closet. She grabs a black scarf-like wrap and gathers it around her shoulders. Turning back, she finds Spike standing there with his duster on, holding the front door open. She comes up to him, willing herself not to sway.

“I just wanted to say...so you don’t get the wrong idea. This is not a date.”

“Never said it was.” The smirk returns.

“Good, ‘cause it’s not.”

“Fine.” The smirk grows a little.

“Good.”

“Right.”

“Well, let’s go. Not on a date, of course.” Buffy looks everywhere but at Spike.

“Yeah, just friends going to a club.”

“Right. Except not friends.”

“That’s right. So, mortal enemies going dancing.”

“Okay. But no dancing.”

“Should we just go, Slayer?” Spike sighs, though he is enjoying the little game.

“Yes. I think that’s a good idea. It’s not a date.”

“Luv, just how much wine did you have?”

Buffy walks past without answering. On the sidewalk, she looks around. “So, should we walk? I’m not big with the driving and besides, um, I did have some wine, as you may have noticed.”

Spike’s voice is softer than usual when he answers. “Yeah, let’s walk, luv.” Buffy thinks she sees him almost - just almost - offer his arm to her. He then tries to recover his swagger, strutting by her as if he goes clubbing with the Slayer every night. She shakes her head, watching him walk down the sidewalk ahead of her. The way he walks should be a crime. All strut and attitude, leather swishing.

Buffy sighs, feeling it all the way down her body. Between the effects of the wine and the effect of Spike on her body, it’s hard to choose which has her the most off-kilter.

Spike stops after he realizes she is not next to him. He turns back to find Buffy standing where he left her, a bit glazed over in the eyes. “Coming, pet?”

“Yes, yes. Coming.” Spike smirks and Buffy tries not to react. He is not going to do this to her. Make every word a sexual invitation. Only it is kinda fun. She smiles a little in return before joining him. If anything, it sure as hell won’t be boring.


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Author’s Note: Okay, still a bit slow on the updates, but I’m working on it. Had to take a few days off for post-Angel blues. Now I’m back! Reviews make me grin, so help me out. :) -Tiana