Just A Fling

Thanks so much to Evilawyer for beta-ing this chapter, and I have to give a big thanks to Schehrezade for the detail of London. I have been driving her crazy with questions, and she’s really been a help.

Also thanks to lovesbitcha, Jane, wiccangirl314, and Anon. I really appreciate the reviews.

Chapter 6 – Back to the Mother Land

Giles’ red BMW sped down the highway, racing towards the Los Angeles Airport. Watching all rays of the sun on the horizon fade completely away, Buffy was reminded how closely they had timed their departure with sunset so that they could use the dark as wisely as possible, or Spike would be crispy critter. No fun with dust in bed instead of a cool, hard, male body. Without realizing it, Buffy licked her lips.

The watcher did his watcherly duty - worrying. “Buffy, I’m not at all sure that this trip is the best course of action in this circumstance. I am still not convinced that the monsters were actually who they appeared to be or that a Dr. Frankenstein even existed…er…exits.”

Unexpectedly, Spike leaned forward from the rear seat and slapped the back of Giles’ head. “Think less. Drive more. And Rups, what about the letter we found in the motel that the doc left behind? It let us know that the prig behind all of this mailed it from London. So London bound we are, Watcher. You can survive without your slayer for a few days.” He, however, didn’t think he could go a few days without her in his bed. Uh…er…well, he could go a few days if he had to, the vampire corrected himself. He just didn’t want to.

While Giles huffed and puffed over the abuse of his head, he settled his glasses back on his nose, stalling for an answer.

Buffy pulled the much discussed envelope from her back pack. Sliding the letter out, she carefully unfolded it. “This,” she waved the piece of paper in Giles’ face, which he batted at, “gives a ‘Do My Will’ spell that puzzled even Willow in its simplicity, and also included instructions to go after me. And for the peeping Toms in the crowd, here is my picture taken in the Simpson Cemetery.”

“Tsk, tsk, pet, they should have taken it from the other side. Maybe different lighting would have helped,” Spike joked from the back seat. He had sat behind Giles on purpose. At first, he had told himself he had done it for no particular reason, but later he just had to admit to himself that he had done it to watch the Slayer’s profile and catch glimpses of her face when she turned her head. He would have thought he was cracked until he rationalized that she was his mistress, a beautiful mistress, and he was allowed to look his fill, that is as long as she didn’t catch him. Didn’t want her getting the wrong idea that he was infatuated or something, did he?

Buffy shot him a glare and a retort, making him jump. “Shut up, Spike.”

“Keep wishing on that same old star, Goldilocks,” Spike leaned across and whispered in her ear. Then he smirked at the back of her head, wishing the slayer would turn around again so that he could see her face. Spike kicked himself. All this wanting to dally with his hated enemy was starting to make his head spin.

Buffy growled at the irritating vampire. But, irritating though Spike was, half of her growl was caused by the fact that his whisper had too much of an effect on her. Highly embarrassed, she felt the goose bumps she had up her arms. “Giles, even if you don’t believe that this doc guy is Frankenstein, you have to admit that somebody is trying to have me killed…”

“More power to him, I say.” Spike threw in, still uncomfortable with his thoughts regarding the Slayer and her beauty.

“Shut. Up. Spike. Again, to have me killed, and according to this,” she waved the envelope, “that someone is in England.”

“Granted…” Giles begrudgingly nodded his head.

“Ergo Buffy goes to England.” Buffy smiled, proud of her own logic that she had nicely laid out for Giles.

Now the watcher could understand the need to go to England, but the need to have her companion along for the ride was still highly questionable. “And the necessity of Spike?”

Buffy looked into the back seat and had to secretly smile at how cute his attempt to sprawl like a big bad in a small backseat looked. Stop it Buffy, he is so not cute. Well, just a little. “We have a truce, don’t we, oh chip boy. And, Giles, he’ll help get me around and help fight. ”

“But I could show you around London…” Giles glanced over at Buffy and wondered why she was still looking at Spike. In the very dim recesses of his mind, small bells rang, but he chose to ignore them, considering all the other goings on.

Her watcher’s valid suggestion brought her back to the subject at hand, but that didn’t make her like the suggestion. “Yes, but you…uh…Giles, Spike’s going. Deal.” Ok, so she had copped out. “Anyway, you need to stay here at the Hellmouth and command the troops.” What was she suppose to tell the man who was her father for all intents and purposes? She wanted the obnoxious blood sucker hottie with her because they were having a hot and heavy affair that she didn’t want to leave behind? Hell, she could barely admit that to herself without her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. But the scary part was that the admission was getting easier. At least now, she did admit it – just not to the blood sucker. That brought on another smile.

Said vampire broke into her thoughts. “Besides, Watcher, those two monsters tried to kill yours truly, too. Gotta grudge to settle, and it’s not likely I could do that from Sunnyhell.” Leaning up, Spike’s voice changed to low and sinful. His eyes stared holes into the back of Buffy’s head, willing her to turn around and look at him. “And the Slayer and I need to explore our truce further.”

Buffy’s cheeks set on fire, and she turned and reached into the backseat to smack Spike on the leg. Then it was time to change the subject. “Oh, oh, Giles, there’s the airport exit.”

Spike just laughed. At least she had looked back at him, and bonus, she had touched him. Nothing wrong with a little spank, he thought as he licked his lips.

*****

After they were settled in their seats and the plane took off, Buffy looked over at the book Spike had pulled out of his bag and read the cover. “’Conversations with Ted Bundy’? You sicko!”

Spike gave her a sly grin and a wink that she found adorable. “Ain’t it grand. Besides, it’s an amusing game of ferreting out the lies. And you think I’m evil. Just think, Slayer. He did all those murders with a soul.”

Cute? Spike? He’s a vampire, Buffy. Sharp teeth. Grh. Remember that.

She was also uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking, so she pulled out a magazine from the pocket of the seat in front of her and began leafing through it. But her mind stayed its course. She hated to admit it, but Spike was right. Serial killers such as Bundy, Dahmer, and Gasey had committed horrible crimes with souls. She guessed the soul hadn’t mattered one bit. How can that be? On the other side, Spike was no longer killing and didn’t have a soul, but he had a chip, which was like a forcibly implanted soul of sorts. The bigger question was whether he keep from killing without a soul? No way. When Angel lost his soul, he was mega evil. So soul good. No soul evil. That was it. She would just ignore the whole Ted Bundy with a soul scenario.

Buffy’s world returned to normal. But that was the problem. She wasn’t normal. Hadn’t she seen enough in her career as a slayer to come to the conclusion that there weren’t any hard and fast rules? No, no, it just couldn’t be, she told herself without much conviction. But, to be honest, there probably were some grey areas. Areas that she hoped to avoid.

Soon her eyes were beginning to droop. Spike watched as the hand she used to thumb through the pages of her magazine slowly came to a stop and her head began to loll over to the side. His side. He froze for a moment as her head settled against his t-shirt clad shoulder. He should shove her head to the other side. The demon in him knew that, wanted that. Why should he help his enemy get all comfy cozy? He should push her away…but he didn’t. Instead he let the twit squirm to the get more comfortable.

Then she elbowed him as she moved. Now that was the last straw. Using his hand, he pushed her head off of his shoulder, and was promptly surprised when Buffy slapped his hand back down. “You’re my fanged travel pillow for the duration, so sit still.” Spike growled until the lady in the seat in front of him looked around. He gave her a dazzling smile. Sugar instead of vinegar for the old bat.

Cutting into his thoughts, Buffy pleaded in a little girl’s voice, “Read to me.”

“Shut your gob, you cheeky bint.” He couldn’t just hear but felt her chuckle. As she settled back for her nap, Spike settled in for the duration. After awhile, Spike found himself listening to her breathe, a steady rhythm for a time; then from time to time, it would catch for a moment, no doubt a reflection of something happening in her current dream. Once she held her breath for thirty seconds, and he sincerely hoped she was dreaming that he had finally killed her. Well, maybe just beat her to a pulp.

How things change over time, he pondered. He had come to Sunnyhell to help Dru and to kill the Slayer, then to just fight not kill the Slayer because he didn’t want to lose such an adversary. Next, he had relied on her help and they were allies of sorts, and now he was shagging her. Wonder if the Powers That Be would answer one question: What the bloody fucking hell was going on? Oh, bugger it. He looked down at her golden head and smiled despite himself. Maybe he was never meant to kill her at all. To paraphrase a line that he had once read that made him think of this slayer, “The world is a more interesting place with you in it.”

Buffy found his shoulder comfortable. Ok, only somewhat comfortable, not as comfy as her bed with a good pillow, but she had no desire to move. She couldn’t help it. She felt drawn to him, drawn to touch him somehow, like hold his hand. Wait a minute. Holding Spike’s hand was so far outside the realm of possibility that she couldn’t believe she had thought of it. How could she have even thought of such a gesture? It was something she would do with a boyfriend. Boyfriend?! Where did that come from? Ok, time to sleep. Shutting brain down now.

The problem was that he just followed her in her dreams. There were candles every where, a four poster bed, and black satin sheets. No, that wasn’t right. Candlelight still bathed the room, but the bed had only a headboard and the sheets were floral. Spike was in her, in her bed, in her room, and it felt so right. She didn’t even fear her mother walking in. All she cared about was the man making love to her. Love? No…yes, it sounded right, at least in her dreams.

When she finally woke up, Buffy excused herself and walked up the aisle to the bathroom. Spike noticed that a bloke across the aisle was openly admiring at her sexy ass. When she was returning, the guy’s admiration turned into a leer. Spike saw red but then caught himself. Buffy wasn’t his to get jealous over. He had no say or hold over her. He wasn’t her protector. However, when Buffy sat down and the git’s leer got ugly, Spike had enough. He leaned forward and flashed a little fang. The ponce responded with shock and a good dose of fear. He didn’t look their way again for the last four hours of the flight. Spike sat back satisfied. Yes, he did have, as it may be, a tenuous hold on Buffy. She was his mistress, his beautiful mistress, and only his for the time being. He didn’t share, even if she was a slayer. And no way was he sharing Buffy. Spike chose to ignore his overly possessive feelings towards his lovely travel mate and decided to catch some shut eye.

*****

Buffy looked at the ceiling of her room in the inn and ran the last few hours through her mind. They had landed at Gatwick Airport barely before dawn and just made the half hour express train to London. When they arrived at Victoria’s Station, they quickly hailed a cab and swept them into the traffic.

Buffy could tell, could feel that Spike was growing increasingly nervous. He was more than concerned when the sun was just breaking the horizon. But luck was with them. They arrived at the Ferret and Firkin in Chelsea Harbour before the deadly rays could bathe the street, and Spike raced inside while Buffy fumbled with paying the cabbie. In the lobby, to their left was a check in desk and a small restaurant and to the right was a pub. Buffy immediately loved the old, homey atmosphere and furnishings.

Their suite wasn’t large but was comfortable and had a nice view of the street below. The one draw back was in such an old establishment, the retro fitted plumbing was sparse. Thus there was only one bathroom for their two bedroom suite. But neither paid it a thought when they headed for their respective bedrooms. All either of them cared about were their separate beds and sleep.

After waking up late in the afternoon, Buffy decided it was time for a shower to try to wash away her jet lag. She gathered up the needed supplies and a clean change of clothes, and when she walked out into the hall, she practically ran over Spike, who was also carrying supplies for the bathroom.

“Like minds.” Recovering, Buffy gave him a hesitant smile. The image of Spike naked and wet was swimming around in her mind. Ah, what a luscious sight.

“You go first, missy.” He was glad that he had slicked his curls back after his sleep before running into her; looking good for her now might pay off for him later. Spike turned to walk back to his room and then halted. What an opportunity he was missing!. Hadn’t he just been dreaming about the minx and woken up with a vicious hard on? He turned back around and walked to the bathroom. Luck was with him. The door didn’t lock properly. All it had was a latch that he was able to lift up. He walked in and shut the door. The room was starting to steam up from the hot, running water.

Buffy spun around. She put her hands on her hips, trying to look formidable in her bra to vampire who was obviously horny, judging by the bulge in his pants. Not that she was looking, of course. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

First off, Spike noticed that she didn’t try to cover up. That alone turned him on. Spike’s grin was closer to a leer than a smile. “I was thinking…”

“That is never good.” Trying to look impatient, she tapped her foot on the floor. In actuality, she wanted to grab hold of him and eat him up.

Rolling his eyes in a way that Buffy would be proud of, he plunged on. “I was thinking. We have an arrangement, right?”

“Yes, we have a truce.” Buffy felt like scratching her head. He interrupted her shower to discuss their lack of fighting? Color her embarrassed by her dirty assumption. Well, if he didn’t leave, she was going to kick his ass.

“No, not the truce.” He shifted his weight, looking unusually uncomfortable. Was she so naive that she really couldn’t figure out why he was here? Or maybe she wanted to end the set-up and this was her way of doing it, William whispered in his head. “We are having a fling, right?”

Now she was starting to catch on. “Right.” Oh, she wanted to catch on. Wasn’t he hot in that t-shirt and jeans? Maybe he should take some clothes off, she thought. Even his bare feet were appealing. Why did an enemy have to be so sexy?

With a wink, he stepped forward and whispered into her ear. “Then let’s fling.” He leaned around her and checked the temperature of the water that she had already started running, intentionally brushing the side of her breast. “Do you like your showers… hot?” He drew the last word out and brushed her breast again while leaning back up.

Buffy took a breath, trying to steady herself. Her nipples had already begun to tingle. “Yeah.” She nodded quickly, her eagerness almost comical.

Nonchalantly, Spike grasped her shoulders and turned her around so that her back was to him and undid her bra before turning her back to face him. With great restraint on his part, Spike slowly unfastened her pants and helped her out of them. He inhaled the heady scent of her arousal. He held it in for a moment, savoring it, before blowing it out. Next came the panties. When they were off, with a wicked smile, he rubbed them between his fingers and against his face before discarding them over his shoulder. Buffy thought to say how gross he was acting, but she realized that it wasn’t. The forbidden, bad boy action just aroused her even more.

Pointing her towards the bath tub and holding the curtain back, Spike gave her a slap on the ass, making her jump. “Get your pretty little tush in that tub.” After shooting a dirty look back at him, Buffy stepped into the tub.

TBC

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