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Strip Snap by Lilachigh
 
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Strip Snap by Lilachigh


Chpt 2 Promises to Keep



OK, I know this was meant to be a one-off story, but several people have asked for a sequel, so here it is. Very Spuffy!



Two days after her twenty-first birthday, Buffy collapsed wearily onto her bed and threw her greasy smelling orange uniform as far across the room as she could. She needed a shower; the desire to wash her hair was overwhelming, but the effort required to get into the bathroom seemed impossible to find.

She looked at her thin tanned legs and wondered if her ankles were swelling from standing on them for such ages. She needed to paint her toenails, she realised vaguely. There hadn’t been time for pedicures recently. As long as she was clean, that was all that mattered.

She could remember a time when she’d spent hours in the bathroom with soaps and lotions. Once she and Willow had painted every nail they had a different colour. But not now.

The night shift at the Doublemeat Burger Bar had been very long and very busy. Her face ached from the false smile that had been stretched across it for hours. And why were people so rude? Why did they come into a burger bar and stand for ages just gazing at all the little pictures above the counter as if they’d never seen a burger before? So many of them were regulars, she always knew what they would finally have, but still they stood and looked. And you always had to smile and be pleasant when in reality she had a mad desire to pour the boiling fat over their silly heads.

She still had to patrol this evening, so perhaps she’d do that and shower when she got back. ‘I’ll be all hot and sweaty again,’ she thought and firmly pushed away thoughts of how she might be even hotter and sweatier if she went to see Spike at his crypt.

Even though it was only Spike - and hey, evil, dirty thing remember - she felt too grubby and smelly to let even him touch her tonight. But, oh god, how she wanted him to. Even under the tired, aching muscles and bone weariness, she could feel a hot quivering glow of anticipation as her body - against her will - remembered just what he did to it.

“No! Just patrolling. Then shower and bed,” she muttered and pulled open her closet door to find some clean jeans.

“What in the name of - ?” Right in front of her eyes was something on a hanger, wrapped in polythene. There was a large piece of paper pinned to the front of it. WEAR THIS. BE OUTSIDE IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. HURRY!

Buffy tore off the wrapping and gasped. The dress floated. A tight white lace bodice had sapphire velvet ribbons criss-crossing, pulling the neckline into some form of modesty. There were little white feathers all around the edge of the neckline and sleeves. The skirt was layers of white lace and silk. It looked old and was probably the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

She reached out to touch it with gentle fingers. She didn’t need to guess who the note was from and she had no doubt, whatsoever, that if she put it on it would fit her. Spike had spent hours running his hands over her body. He knew every curve, every inch of her, intimately.

“I’m too dirty,” she whispered to herself. “I’ll ruin it.” But even as she spoke she was heading for the shower.

Ten minutes later, her hair still wet but at least clean, she had pulled on the dress and stood gazing at herself in the mirror. She didn’t recognise the woman who looked back her her; big green eyes in a pale face, hair piled up in tangles on top of her head, her breasts pushed up by the bodice into creamy mounds as she tightened the blue ribbons and the little white feathers tickled her skin in a sudden breeze -

“You look ravishing, sweetheart! Makes me want to ravish you!”

She didn’t move. She was still the only person she could see in the mirror, but knew from the feel of his breath on her bare neck, that he was standing behind her.

“It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen!” she whispered. She turned round into his arms, and gasped as he bent his head and dropped a line of tiny kisses along her collar bone.

“Not as beautiful as the person wearing it,” he murmured and pulled her damp hair down into a cascade of blonde tangles. “You didn’t come down to me,” he said, brushing stray strands back from her cheek. “I told you to hurry.”

‘I had to shower. I was all Doublemeaty. And where are we going, Spike? I can’t possibly patrol in this dress.”

“I’ve already done a patrol for you tonight. Three demons, done and dusted, luv. Must admit I didn’t hunt too closely for vamps. Thought I’d leave that for you tomorrow. Tonight - well, tonight is just for us. Come on!”

“Spike - I’ve got no shoes!”

“Don’t need shoes where we’re going!” And before she could protest, he swung her up in his arms and carried her out of the window and swung down the tree branches to the ground.

The grass felt cool under her bare feet as Spike put her down, her damp hair deliciously cool on her neck.

There was an old open-topped car in the road. Spike scooped her up again, ignoring her protests and dropped her in the passenger seat.

Then he was by her side, the engine was roaring and they were away into the moonlit night.

“Spike, what are we doing. It’s so late.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and reached over to run a finger across her bare shoulder. She shuddered under his touch.

“You said at your birthday party that you missed being a normal girl. I didn’t bring you a gift then, so this is my present to you, sweetheart. A normal evening, doing normal things. No worries, no responsibilities, no problems. Just you and me.”

“Spike! Are you taking me on a date?”

He laughed. “Bloody well call it what you like, Slayer. Just enjoy it.”

She lay back on the warm leather seat and, for the first time since her mother had died, felt herself relaxing, the weariness draining out of her bones, every muscle becoming pliant and soft, the tension vanishing. For once she didn’t have to make a decision, be in command. Someone else was in charge. No one was expecting her to be the leader. Tonight no one knew where she was or what she was doing. it was a heady experience - like drinking ice cold champagne on an empty stomach.

This evening was so unexpected, so ridiculous, it was hard not to laugh. The rush of air in her face, the growling of the engine, the feel of Spike next to her, knowing she could reach out and touch him if she wanted.

Why did his presence reassure her so much? What was it about this vampire that made her world glow when he was in it?

She didn’t love him. She refused to believe she could love somebody without a soul. But this - connection - they had, confused and bewildered her. The sex was fabulous; she wasn’t naive enough to deny that, but she also knew it was more than lust, more than passion. But what was it? He’d once told her she would crave him, that he was in her blood and now, she realised, he was right.

Twenty miles on and they were pulling off the road and bumping up a dirt track, through some open metal gates, and on into thick, dark woodland, the headlights catching the green gleam from the eyes of small animals crouching in the undergrowth.

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep,” she heard Spike quote to himself under his breath. “And miles to go before I sleep.”

She turned to gaze into his face. He often quoted poetry, she realised. He’d done it for a long time, especially when he and Giles were together. She’d never thought about his education before. It was odd to wonder about a William at school as a small boy, perhaps graduating from some posh English college before he met Drusilla on the streets of London one dark night.

At least she knew the poem he was quoting now, “Robert Frost,” she murmured.

“A great American poet, luv.”

Then they were out of the woods and Buffy realised they were driving along a sandy shore by the side of a lake.

“Where are we, Spike? I had no idea there was any lake near Sunnydale.”

“That’s because you can’t see it from the road. It’s on private property. Belongs to some movie star.”

“What!’ Buffy sat upright in shock. “ Then we’re trespassing. Spike, turn round and get us out of here.”

“Relax, Slayer. No one is going to know,” he replied calmly as he stopped the car and turned off the headlights.

The darkness swallowed them up, then her eyes began to adjust as the moon sailed out from behind a small cloud and she gasped.

The lake lay blackly in front of her with a silver path of moonlight stretching clearly to the other side. The water rippled slightly in the soft breeze and it was as if a sheet of starlight was being shaken over the wavelets.

Before she could speak, Spike had swung her up into his arms. As her head fell against his shoulder, he bent to kiss her. She twisted her fingers up into the platinum curls, tugging on them to get his mouth even closer to hers, making little meowing noises at the back of her throat, desperate for the contact to continue.

His tongue ran softly over hers, tangling, teasing, promising much, then leaving her gasping for more.

“Later, princess,” he growled. “Be patient! I promise, you’re going to have an evening you’re never, ever going to forget.”

And he carried her down to the shore line. There was a small rowing boat pulled up onto the shingle. Spike laid her down on some cushions in the stern and jumping in, began to row them slowly but steadily down the path of moonlight towards the far shore.

to be continued




 
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