Five Servings A Day
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
4,248
Reviews:
43
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
4,248
Reviews:
43
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 1: Fair, Shmair
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: Five Servings a Day
Author: Tiana
Feedback: I LOVE feedback. I’ll love you forever if you leave me your reviews. (I’m not just saying that. Honest.) Or feel free to send me your comments at: tianabelle@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I don’t own the rights to Spike, Buffy or any other BTVS characters. Damn it.
Distribution: Just ask at tianabelle@hotmail.com.
Summary: Set Season 4, a week after Something Blue (and before Hush). Buffy is made to watch Spike while Giles goes out of town… hijinks ensue.
Rating: NC-17
Note: This fic is a response to a challenge posted at Marsters’ Mobsters board (http://www.marsters-mobsters.com/) in celebration of our reaching the milestone of 500 Mobsters. Thanks to Spicy and all the mods for a truly silly challenge that I am trying to wedge into a somewhat canon-based, Buffyverse fic! Bear with discrepancies as I’ve got an interesting task ahead of me and I tweaked a few things in the timeline of the show.
Here’s the challenge:
All five of the following elements must be included in the fic:
1) Spike says "Bloody Hell! You chewed on my toe, you bint!"
2) The theft of a precious lunchbox.
3) Wide use of fruit discussion, including of course, bananas and plums (mentions of other food, like nuts, are encouraged).
4) A parade honoring the person who recovered the lunchbox.
5) At least one really good description of our favorite tongue in action!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
* * * * *
Chapter 1: Fair, Shmair
* * * * *
The silence is broken by a low guttural moan. One eyelid twitches open, revealing part of one baby blue eye. The moan grows louder and the eye drops closed again.
“Shut…the…hell…up.” His voice is broken rock, all sharp and rough around the edges.
A snort comes from somewhere near his feet. An achingly familiar voice rings out. “Wha? Who’s there? How?”
The moan cuts off and both eyes pop open. “Damn. That was me moaning.” Spike contemplates moving, but quickly thinks better of it, since even his toes hurt. “Ow, they really do. Wait. What? Who?” A solid pause and recognition. “Slayer?!?” He turns his head towards the voice at the foot of the bed and sees a tangled mess of blonde hair. And below that rat’s nest, the face of a very very confused and bleary-eyed Buffy. The Slayer. In his bed. Oh, and wearing one of his t-shirts. When his gaze rests firmly on her face, Buffy’s eyes threaten to bug out of their sockets.
“Spike?!” She looks at the vampire, then down at her shirt and back at him in rapid succession. Buffy then freezes, one hand coming up slowly to hold her head very still. “Oh god. My head.” A few seconds later, and much much quieter. “What did we do?”
“Do? What makes you think we diiiii…” Spike looks down at the sheet thrown over his torso. His naked torso. Sitting up on his elbows, he sees that his t-shirt is the only thing Buffy appears to be wearing. “Oh. So we did. I guess?” He runs one hand through his hair, rumpling it further, wrestling with his fuzzy memory for answers. For the moment, the memory is winning and its secrets stay locked up tight.
“I don’t know for sur - ”
Spike interrupts, “Bloody Hell! You chewed on my toe, you bint!” He stares at the big toe in question, an expression of horror on his face. Buffy whips her head to look and moans.
“Okay, too quick. Way too quick. And eww, no, I did not! And what’s a bint?”
“Well, someone did. Look at it! And you were down there, luv.” Spike hits the word ‘down’ with a leer, and Buffy rolls her eyes at him. He ignores her question for his own safety.
“It wasn’t me. It was…” Buffy’s face scrunches up as she tries to drag a memory out of the fogbank that is her mind. She starts to nibble on her finger until Spike gives her a very pointed look. The finger quickly drops back to her lap. Eyes gone blank, she stares at her hands for a few more moments as Spike watches. Finally, a light goes on.
“AMY!” This time, both hands go tofy’sfy’s head with a moan and the next noise is again, much quieter. “It was Amy.”
“Who the hell is Amy and why was she nibbling on my toe?” Spike sits up all the way to inspect his chewed-on digit. “Friend of yours?”
“Not…exactly.” Buffy bites back a giggle as the memory floods back. “She’s a rat.”
Lesson learned, Spike does not yell his response, but Buffy sees the veins pop out in his neck, betraying his reaction. “A rat? A rat named Amy bit my toe?”
“Yeah.”
“You think it’s funny, don’t you?”
“A little.” Buffy lifts her index finger up to make a point. “I think I was the one that stopped her, though. I think.”
Spike scratches his head. “Okay, so that answers the toe question...sort of. But still there’s the big question of why the bleedin’ hell you and I are naked in your bed when the last thing I remember is… well, damn. I’m not sure. Being in the basement yesterday?”
Buffy shrugs and gestures at herself. “I’m not naked, though. See? I have this shirt on….which is yours. This is your shirt! And oh my god, why do I keep yelling? My head is going to pop…”
“Stay calm, Slayer. And yeah, stop yelling. Bit of a headache here, eh? We’ll figure this out. I’ll look around the house, see if anything looks out of sorts…” Spike starts to stand up and is grd byd by a squeak.
“Spike – um, naked.” Spike looks down at the sheet that is nearly off him. He considers saying ‘sod all’ to modesty and standing up anyway, but Buffy’s pink cheeks somehow affect him.
“Right. You wanna check the place out, then?”
Surprised at the lack of off-color remark, Buffy doesn’t answer immediately. And to be altogether truthful, she’s a little disappointed he didn’t just strut off buck naked. It seems that she has now seen him na but but it’s rather unfair that she can’t remember any of it. Spike is still looking at her curiously and she snaps out of the daydream with a much deeper flush on her face. “Oh! Um, yes. I’ll go and check.” Sidling out of the bed carefully so as not to reveal herself, Buffy stands up, pulling the t-shirt down as much as possible. It just skims over her mid-thighs, leaving her feeling fairly exposed. Modesty preserved, Buffy realizes the entire room is spinning wildly oxis.xis. She catches herself on the edge of the bed before she loses her balance completely.
Actually, Spike catches her, it turns out. When Buffy lifts her eyes, head swimming, Spike’s deep blue eyes are right there and extremely concerned. His hand has ahold of her upper arm, and it is clearly what kept her from falling. She feels his strong grip on her and is strangely tingly in that exact spot. Her voice is nearly a whisper, amazed at how he crossed the entire bn non no time to reach her. “Wow. Fast.” Her gaze drops and eyes widen. “And still naked.” The slight grin that skitters across her face is unmistakable and Spike’s tongue curls up behind his teeth as he meets her look.
Modesty was the last thing on his mind, as it usually is, when he saw the Slayer sway dramatically and head for the ground. In leaping the length of the bed, he left the sheet behind, and now finds himself without a stitch on, kneeling on the edge of bed bed with a woozy Slayer nearly in hims. ms. Interesting.
Instead of squirming out of his grasp, Buffy gives Spike a wry grin. “So, I’ve figured out at least one thing we did last night” She slowly sits back down on the edge of the bed and Spike keeps a grip on her. Just in case.
“Just the one thing, luv?” Spike’s tongue wraps around his front teeth this time, as his eyebrows shoot up suggestively.
Buffy squints at him, but since she has no idea of everythiney dey did, can’t really deny it. “Yes, at least one thing.”
“And that would be?”
“Definitely drinking. Lots of drinking.”
“Figure that out from the raging headache you and I both have?”
“Yes, well, that and the fact that I’m…” Buffy mumbles the rest of her sentence and even Spike can’t make it out, not with the jackhammer going in his head.
“What’s that, pet?”
Buffy nibbles on her bottom lip, trying to steady herself. “I’m still kinda drunk.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Twenty four hours earlier…
“I’m bored.”
“And let me repeat for the tenth time that I still do not care.” Buffy shifts a few more boxes before pausing to wipe her face of sweat and scowl at the vampire. If she wasn’t tired and irritated, she would have giggled at the pout on Spike’s face. For a master vampire, he was positively childlike sometimes. It was uncomfortably endearing.
“I would help move those boxes if you untied me.” Spike tries to look convincing.
“You so would not. You would do something stupid, I would have to kick your ass and then tie you back up.”
“Promise?” Spike leers at Buffy, who renews her scowl at him, hand on hip.
“A pig, Spike. You are such a pervert.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who brought up the bondage fun, luv.”
Buffy splutters at him, “I did not bring up ‘bondage fun’!!!”
“Oh, but you do think it’s fun, eh, pet?” Spike’s eyes dance with glee at the red flusllinlling Buffy’s cheeks. Her indignation is ripe and tantalizing to him.
Buffy’s mouth opens and closes several times as she gapes at him like a fish out of water. “I cannot talk to you.” She turns to the boxes again, hoisting one from a particularly dusty corner of the basement. Putting it down, she turns back to Spike with a glint in her eye, decision made. “This is it for you, huh, Spike?” She strolls towards the vampire tied firmly to a wooden chair. Stopping directly in front of him, she looks down into his blue eyes, reminding herself not to consider how very blue they are. “Big bad master vampire reduced to trading verbal jabs with his mortal enemy instead of actual punches.” She leans down to put her face at his level, smiling when she hears the low growl in his throat. “Poor poor Spikey. Scary you’re not.”
Fighting back the urge to curse at Buffy, Spike drawls out, his voice low and honeyed. “Then why is your heart racing, pet? Just about to beat out of your…chest.” Spike lowers his gaze to look at said chest before lifting it back to her hazel eyes. Her scent is intoxicating to Spike, a mixture of sweat and fear and…could that be arousal?
Buffy is startled. She expected a string of creative British curses, but instead he is giving her a dangerous look and his words roll over her in a slow, sultry wave. Unexpectedly, she flashes back to the spell Willow put on them a week ago. The way his hard body felt under her when she was perched on his lap, the softness of his lips against hers, his teeth nipping at her mouth. Mostly, these thoughts had been relegated to her dreams, but now she was stuck with the object of her lust and irritation in her own house. Why did Giles have to leave town and why oh why did Xander’s basement have to flood so he couldn’t look after the bleached wonder?
Damn, it just was not fair.
***************
Author's Note: Rws? ws? Yes, please! -Tiana
Title: Five Servings a Day
Author: Tiana
Feedback: I LOVE feedback. I’ll love you forever if you leave me your reviews. (I’m not just saying that. Honest.) Or feel free to send me your comments at: tianabelle@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I don’t own the rights to Spike, Buffy or any other BTVS characters. Damn it.
Distribution: Just ask at tianabelle@hotmail.com.
Summary: Set Season 4, a week after Something Blue (and before Hush). Buffy is made to watch Spike while Giles goes out of town… hijinks ensue.
Rating: NC-17
Note: This fic is a response to a challenge posted at Marsters’ Mobsters board (http://www.marsters-mobsters.com/) in celebration of our reaching the milestone of 500 Mobsters. Thanks to Spicy and all the mods for a truly silly challenge that I am trying to wedge into a somewhat canon-based, Buffyverse fic! Bear with discrepancies as I’ve got an interesting task ahead of me and I tweaked a few things in the timeline of the show.
Here’s the challenge:
All five of the following elements must be included in the fic:
1) Spike says "Bloody Hell! You chewed on my toe, you bint!"
2) The theft of a precious lunchbox.
3) Wide use of fruit discussion, including of course, bananas and plums (mentions of other food, like nuts, are encouraged).
4) A parade honoring the person who recovered the lunchbox.
5) At least one really good description of our favorite tongue in action!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
* * * * *
Chapter 1: Fair, Shmair
* * * * *
The silence is broken by a low guttural moan. One eyelid twitches open, revealing part of one baby blue eye. The moan grows louder and the eye drops closed again.
“Shut…the…hell…up.” His voice is broken rock, all sharp and rough around the edges.
A snort comes from somewhere near his feet. An achingly familiar voice rings out. “Wha? Who’s there? How?”
The moan cuts off and both eyes pop open. “Damn. That was me moaning.” Spike contemplates moving, but quickly thinks better of it, since even his toes hurt. “Ow, they really do. Wait. What? Who?” A solid pause and recognition. “Slayer?!?” He turns his head towards the voice at the foot of the bed and sees a tangled mess of blonde hair. And below that rat’s nest, the face of a very very confused and bleary-eyed Buffy. The Slayer. In his bed. Oh, and wearing one of his t-shirts. When his gaze rests firmly on her face, Buffy’s eyes threaten to bug out of their sockets.
“Spike?!” She looks at the vampire, then down at her shirt and back at him in rapid succession. Buffy then freezes, one hand coming up slowly to hold her head very still. “Oh god. My head.” A few seconds later, and much much quieter. “What did we do?”
“Do? What makes you think we diiiii…” Spike looks down at the sheet thrown over his torso. His naked torso. Sitting up on his elbows, he sees that his t-shirt is the only thing Buffy appears to be wearing. “Oh. So we did. I guess?” He runs one hand through his hair, rumpling it further, wrestling with his fuzzy memory for answers. For the moment, the memory is winning and its secrets stay locked up tight.
“I don’t know for sur - ”
Spike interrupts, “Bloody Hell! You chewed on my toe, you bint!” He stares at the big toe in question, an expression of horror on his face. Buffy whips her head to look and moans.
“Okay, too quick. Way too quick. And eww, no, I did not! And what’s a bint?”
“Well, someone did. Look at it! And you were down there, luv.” Spike hits the word ‘down’ with a leer, and Buffy rolls her eyes at him. He ignores her question for his own safety.
“It wasn’t me. It was…” Buffy’s face scrunches up as she tries to drag a memory out of the fogbank that is her mind. She starts to nibble on her finger until Spike gives her a very pointed look. The finger quickly drops back to her lap. Eyes gone blank, she stares at her hands for a few more moments as Spike watches. Finally, a light goes on.
“AMY!” This time, both hands go tofy’sfy’s head with a moan and the next noise is again, much quieter. “It was Amy.”
“Who the hell is Amy and why was she nibbling on my toe?” Spike sits up all the way to inspect his chewed-on digit. “Friend of yours?”
“Not…exactly.” Buffy bites back a giggle as the memory floods back. “She’s a rat.”
Lesson learned, Spike does not yell his response, but Buffy sees the veins pop out in his neck, betraying his reaction. “A rat? A rat named Amy bit my toe?”
“Yeah.”
“You think it’s funny, don’t you?”
“A little.” Buffy lifts her index finger up to make a point. “I think I was the one that stopped her, though. I think.”
Spike scratches his head. “Okay, so that answers the toe question...sort of. But still there’s the big question of why the bleedin’ hell you and I are naked in your bed when the last thing I remember is… well, damn. I’m not sure. Being in the basement yesterday?”
Buffy shrugs and gestures at herself. “I’m not naked, though. See? I have this shirt on….which is yours. This is your shirt! And oh my god, why do I keep yelling? My head is going to pop…”
“Stay calm, Slayer. And yeah, stop yelling. Bit of a headache here, eh? We’ll figure this out. I’ll look around the house, see if anything looks out of sorts…” Spike starts to stand up and is grd byd by a squeak.
“Spike – um, naked.” Spike looks down at the sheet that is nearly off him. He considers saying ‘sod all’ to modesty and standing up anyway, but Buffy’s pink cheeks somehow affect him.
“Right. You wanna check the place out, then?”
Surprised at the lack of off-color remark, Buffy doesn’t answer immediately. And to be altogether truthful, she’s a little disappointed he didn’t just strut off buck naked. It seems that she has now seen him na but but it’s rather unfair that she can’t remember any of it. Spike is still looking at her curiously and she snaps out of the daydream with a much deeper flush on her face. “Oh! Um, yes. I’ll go and check.” Sidling out of the bed carefully so as not to reveal herself, Buffy stands up, pulling the t-shirt down as much as possible. It just skims over her mid-thighs, leaving her feeling fairly exposed. Modesty preserved, Buffy realizes the entire room is spinning wildly oxis.xis. She catches herself on the edge of the bed before she loses her balance completely.
Actually, Spike catches her, it turns out. When Buffy lifts her eyes, head swimming, Spike’s deep blue eyes are right there and extremely concerned. His hand has ahold of her upper arm, and it is clearly what kept her from falling. She feels his strong grip on her and is strangely tingly in that exact spot. Her voice is nearly a whisper, amazed at how he crossed the entire bn non no time to reach her. “Wow. Fast.” Her gaze drops and eyes widen. “And still naked.” The slight grin that skitters across her face is unmistakable and Spike’s tongue curls up behind his teeth as he meets her look.
Modesty was the last thing on his mind, as it usually is, when he saw the Slayer sway dramatically and head for the ground. In leaping the length of the bed, he left the sheet behind, and now finds himself without a stitch on, kneeling on the edge of bed bed with a woozy Slayer nearly in hims. ms. Interesting.
Instead of squirming out of his grasp, Buffy gives Spike a wry grin. “So, I’ve figured out at least one thing we did last night” She slowly sits back down on the edge of the bed and Spike keeps a grip on her. Just in case.
“Just the one thing, luv?” Spike’s tongue wraps around his front teeth this time, as his eyebrows shoot up suggestively.
Buffy squints at him, but since she has no idea of everythiney dey did, can’t really deny it. “Yes, at least one thing.”
“And that would be?”
“Definitely drinking. Lots of drinking.”
“Figure that out from the raging headache you and I both have?”
“Yes, well, that and the fact that I’m…” Buffy mumbles the rest of her sentence and even Spike can’t make it out, not with the jackhammer going in his head.
“What’s that, pet?”
Buffy nibbles on her bottom lip, trying to steady herself. “I’m still kinda drunk.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Twenty four hours earlier…
“I’m bored.”
“And let me repeat for the tenth time that I still do not care.” Buffy shifts a few more boxes before pausing to wipe her face of sweat and scowl at the vampire. If she wasn’t tired and irritated, she would have giggled at the pout on Spike’s face. For a master vampire, he was positively childlike sometimes. It was uncomfortably endearing.
“I would help move those boxes if you untied me.” Spike tries to look convincing.
“You so would not. You would do something stupid, I would have to kick your ass and then tie you back up.”
“Promise?” Spike leers at Buffy, who renews her scowl at him, hand on hip.
“A pig, Spike. You are such a pervert.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who brought up the bondage fun, luv.”
Buffy splutters at him, “I did not bring up ‘bondage fun’!!!”
“Oh, but you do think it’s fun, eh, pet?” Spike’s eyes dance with glee at the red flusllinlling Buffy’s cheeks. Her indignation is ripe and tantalizing to him.
Buffy’s mouth opens and closes several times as she gapes at him like a fish out of water. “I cannot talk to you.” She turns to the boxes again, hoisting one from a particularly dusty corner of the basement. Putting it down, she turns back to Spike with a glint in her eye, decision made. “This is it for you, huh, Spike?” She strolls towards the vampire tied firmly to a wooden chair. Stopping directly in front of him, she looks down into his blue eyes, reminding herself not to consider how very blue they are. “Big bad master vampire reduced to trading verbal jabs with his mortal enemy instead of actual punches.” She leans down to put her face at his level, smiling when she hears the low growl in his throat. “Poor poor Spikey. Scary you’re not.”
Fighting back the urge to curse at Buffy, Spike drawls out, his voice low and honeyed. “Then why is your heart racing, pet? Just about to beat out of your…chest.” Spike lowers his gaze to look at said chest before lifting it back to her hazel eyes. Her scent is intoxicating to Spike, a mixture of sweat and fear and…could that be arousal?
Buffy is startled. She expected a string of creative British curses, but instead he is giving her a dangerous look and his words roll over her in a slow, sultry wave. Unexpectedly, she flashes back to the spell Willow put on them a week ago. The way his hard body felt under her when she was perched on his lap, the softness of his lips against hers, his teeth nipping at her mouth. Mostly, these thoughts had been relegated to her dreams, but now she was stuck with the object of her lust and irritation in her own house. Why did Giles have to leave town and why oh why did Xander’s basement have to flood so he couldn’t look after the bleached wonder?
Damn, it just was not fair.
***************
Author's Note: Rws? ws? Yes, please! -Tiana