full 3/4 1/2   skin light dark       
 
Running from the Inevitable by The Enemy of Reality
 
Chapter seventeen
 
<<     >>
 
A/N: I have been nominated at the SunnyD awards!!! :D Whoever did it, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I'd love to snog your face off right now.

Previously: Buffy played a nurse to Spike though he wished she was wearing a naughty uniform. Then Chinese delivery man interrupted possible coitus. Foiled again!

All4Spike and BloodyHell beta'd this because they're that awesome.

Chapter 17


After they finished eating—Spike once again having witnessed the astounding amount of food Buffy was capable of consuming—he had washed his and Buffy’s clothes the old fashioned way. In the sink.


Of course she had washed the unmentionables by herself first before leaving to go to bed.


Like he’d steal her knickers? Who did she think he was? Yeah, okay, the thought might have briefly flashed through his mind but he wouldn’t do that.


Probably.


The sun had already come up but thick curtains shielding the only window in the room kept it shrouded in darkness. The television was on, casting a flickering bluish hue to the room as he hung his jeans over the chair to let them dry after he finally managed to get the mud off. Buffy seemed to have fallen asleep, looking small and incredibly adorable curled in the middle of the huge mattress.


He tiptoed over to the bed, hesitating with his fingers on the sash of his robe. She’d have a cow when she found out he’d slept naked within touching distance. Then again, he couldn’t bloody well sleep in it and actually find any rest.


Decision made, Spike untied the robe and let it fall to the floor before climbing on the bed and under the duvet. With a relieved sigh, he rolled onto his front and let his head drop on a fluffy pillow. Buffy was turned towards him, her heartbeat steady as she tucked her hands under her chin.


A line appeared between her brows when a strand of hair fell into her face, tickling her nose. Without any thought, Spike reached out and brushed it away, his fingertips tracing the soft curve of her cheek.


She was gorgeous and he felt a strong urge to lean in and kiss her. Instead he pulled away and reached over to grab the remote in order to turn the television off. He closed his eyes, letting Buffy’s heartbeat lull him to sleep.


*******


Buffy woke up dazedly, feeling something unusual was going on. She almost jumped when her still sleepy brain processed she was draped over Spike like some slutty Slayer blanket. Of course Spike was respectfully keeping to his side, while she—being the pervert she was—had been all over him while they slept.


Untangling herself from him without waking him in the process proved to be quite a challenge. But hey, she was nothing if not resourceful, right?


Every time she moved a muscle, Spike reacted in a subconscious manner. There was nothing dead about him. The constant spark of life and barely restrained energy apparently carried with him into slumber as well. Always restless, that was him. Smacking his lips, mumbling under his breath and worst of all, turning on his side to hug her to his chest. This was so very wrong. But the worst thing? She kind of liked it. Not to mention Spike smelled really, really good. Definitely yummy enough for her to postpone the escape plan for just a bit longer.


I’m just regrouping here.


Buffy leaned slightly away, just enough to be able to look into his face. After all, it wasn’t every day she could have her fill of ogling Spike without him catching her red-handed, so to speak. And there was lots and lots of stuff to ogle.


His lids flickered every now and then as he dreamt- probably of mayhem. Dark thick lashes rested against his pale skin in stark contrast, lending him something she could only dub as vulnerability. One word she’d never have thought to associate with the bane of her existence. But here they were, their respective sheets twisted around their entangled legs, Spike’s arm resting loosely on her waist. Like they were lovers who couldn’t find repose without the shared warmth and skin touching skin. The thought was equally thrilling as it was terrifying.


But there was nothing scary about the Spike she saw right in front of her eyes. His pouting lips were relaxed rather than smirking, an occasional breath whispering past. And that curly hair he acquired by rolling around in his sleep? Major cuteness alert. Not that she’d tell him that. But since he was all in the land of unconscious, Buffy took a deep breath and reached out to do something she’d been longing to for a while now.


She ran her fingers gently through his hair. And oh, it was soft. Softer that she’d imagined, considering how much gel he used to tame it on a daily basis.


At that, a purr rumbled deep through his chest and sent tremors of desire tumbling through her veins. Still asleep, he pulled her close and bumped his nose against hers, whispering her name.


Well, at least she knew it wasn’t the goth skank he’d been dreaming about.


And shouldn’t she be more freaked out about this entire scenario? His tasty lips didn’t change the fact he was still a vampire. One without a soul who had threatened to kill her on numerous occasions though it never really panned out well for him. One who reveled in being true to his nature.


But then he mumbled something else and he might as well have screamed it into her ear for the effect it had on her.


“Love you.”


He nuzzled against her cheek, still blissfully unaware her entire world had just tilted off its axis. Her entire body screamed at her to stand up and run as fast as her feet would allow. To escape while she could because this could never end well. How could she have been so reckless? And why did she have to catch a glimpse of the man crouching behind the protective front of the Big Bad?


She’d never meant to see his human heart. Never meant for it to touch hers in a way she refused to understand


As quietly as she could, she crawled out of his arms and off the bed. For a moment, she stood there, the room spinning around her so fast she felt her legs wobble.


Love?


He couldn’t… Why would he?


She was everything he was supposed to abhor.


It was just a dream. He didn’t mean it. If he were awake, he’d never have said it. He just… wasn’t aware.


She watched as a crease appeared between his brows before he buried his face in the pillow where her head had rested just a few seconds ago.


The question that slowly surfaced in her mind in the next second left her so utterly confused she didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.


Did she want him to love her?


*******


Needing to clear her head and get away from the temptation spread across the bed for her to nibble on, Buffy had gone to scour about the small town while it was still light out. She felt vaguely guilty for using some of the money Spike had stolen at the hospital and kept in the front pocket of his jeans. Then again, they needed stuff. Luckily, she’d found a tiny mall and finally bought both of them some spare clothes that hopefully wouldn’t be ruined anytime soon.


Now she and Spike were sitting in a small diner and she had successfully pushed the strange confession into the back of her mind. She wasn’t thinking of it at all. Nope. Not even as she stared at Spike searching the menu with the tip of his tongue wedged in the corner of his mouth. And in no way, shape or form, was she imagining him saying those words to her out loud with a crumpled box of Belgian chocolates in his hand.


“You alright?” Spike asked.


Buffy had been acting weird ever since she’d come back to the room. And for a fact he knew it wasn’t his fault. At least he thought so. Maybe she’d gotten a gander at his manly bits and now she was all skittish about it? Not that she hadn’t seen it before. Maybe she’d sneaked a peek, the naughty minx.


Spike opened his mouth to tease her when a waitress approached the table. Spike cringed at the sight of a washed out middle age woman. Her fake eyelashes were so big blinking must have been an effort and unevenly applied layers of blue eye shadow could only be explained by lack of steady hands. Or mirrors.


“So what can I get you, kids?”


“Pancakes with maple syrup and orange juice,” Buffy said.


“Do you have those flower onion thingies?” Spike asked, wriggling his fingers.


A long blink. “No.”


“Bugger. Something spicy then.”


The waitress with a nametag ‘Sally’ rattled off at least six spicy dishes, looking at him expectantly.


“Uh… the second one.” Not he could remember what it was but he figured it all tasted the same.


“Do you want potato wedges, rice, fr-”


“Surprise me,” he interrupted, nervously drumming his fingers on the table. “And bring me coffee.”


She opened her mouth, but he clarified before she could ask him if wanted a bloody cappuccino.


“Black, that’s it.”


She trudged away and Spike turned his attention to Buffy. “So what’s got your knickers in a twist?”


Her eyes widened, colour draining from her cheeks. “Nothing! No… knickers twisting”


Spike bit his lips and slid closer to her on the vinyl red bench seat.


“Is that right, love?”


“Buffy! My name is… Buffy.”


Spike cocked his eyebrow. “Really? Thanks for enlightening me.”


She snatched a paper napkin from the table, tearing it to tiny bits and avoiding his eyes.


“Come on now. What’s this all about then? You can tell me.”


She shook her head, shoulders slumping. “Just had a wacky dream, that’s all. Still feeling kinda spacey, I guess.”


“Hmm… would that dream involve getting frisky with yours truly?”


The corner of her mouth quirked up in a smile. “Frisky? Do people even say that anymore.”


“Trying to change the topic, are you?” Spike shifted even closer, earning him a suspicious look from Buffy.


“Nope. But there wasn’t anything… frisky going on.”


“And I here I thought you were being all skittish because you played peek-a-boo with my goodies.”


“You were naked?” she asked in a shrill voice that left his left ear ringing.


“Yeah. You didn’t notice?”


“Not exactly. You were all covered up down there.”


And there it was, the blush he loved putting on her cheeks so much.


He smiled. “Well then, for future reference, I always sleep naked so feel free to let your hot little hands wander around under the sheets. I won’t mind.”


“Spike!” She glanced around as though her Watcher was leaning over her shoulder, able to hear their conversation. Then she whispered, “There will be no wandering hands!”


He graced her with a wicked glint in his eyes, letting his fingers slowly trail the worn out leather of their seat before they landed on Buffy’s knee. And did she put that mini skirt on just for him?


“You mean like this?”


She shook her leg but he just chuckled and caressed her inner thigh higher and higher until his knuckles brushed against her knickers. Buffy jumped in her seat, slamming her knee against the low table.


“Ow.” She slapped his hand and he reluctantly retreated, satisfied with the fast excited beat of her heart.


“Not here!”


“Oh, you mean I can put my hands all over you when we’re back at the motel room?”


“No, that’s not wha-”


“Sure it’s not.” He grinned and put on his best innocent face when the waitress came back with their orders.


Buffy immediately stuffed her mouth full of pancakes so she wouldn’t have to talk and try to explain her Freudian slip. And the blond pest looked like he was aware of it as he winked at her, dipped his finger in the hot sauce then sucked it into his mouth with a moan.


She almost choked on her pancakes.


Only then did she notice Spike had just dumped several heaped spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee and drank half of it before she could say a word.


Spike plus caffeine plus sugar?


Her eyes widened.


This would not end well.


TBC

 

 
<<     >>