A/N: Buffy is about to get pretty drunk.

Thank you All4Spike and BloodyHell for betaing, and you gorgeous people who have left me a review! :D

Chapter 22


So here they were, sitting opposite each other on the bed, their knees inches away from making contact as Buffy eyed Spike’s devilish grin. She didn’t know why but every time he grinned like that, all she wanted to do was tackle him to the mattress. Again.


“Ready to play?” he asked in a husky voice that made her all tingly. All she could do was nod.


“Alright then. You know the game ‘Never have I ever’?”


“Yup.” The question was, how did he plan on winning this game when there weren’t any things he hadn’t done?


“Good. Now what we’re going to do, Goldilocks, is play it my way.”


“Goldilocks?”


Spike winked. “We’re going to play ‘I have’ instead.”


“Huh?” Damn him and his cryptic-ness.


“I say something I have done, and if you haven’t done it, you have to drink.”


“Well, that’s going to get me drunk pronto.”


“Now you get it.” Spike grinned then apparently starting mulling over some less gory things he’d done as he wedged the tip of his nimble tongue into the corner of his mouth. She was the one who should be playing with it! Buffy pouted.


“Alright. I’ve run naked down the square in Madrid.”


“You have no—,” she paused, “What am I saying? Of course you have. Okay, pass it.”


He uncorked the bottle of Vodka and handed it to her. “Careful now, don’t chug it all at once like the last time, yeah?”


Buffy wrinkled her nose and took a swig. The stuff was pretty much terrible and she coughed as it burned its way down her throat. Bastard that he was, Spike chuckled at her predicament.


“God, you make the most adorable faces,” he said and tilted his head, a small smile playing around his lips. Every time he’d say something like that, the butterflies in her stomach would start flapping their wings again.


“This stuff is vile,” she said.


“You get used to it after a while.”


Buffy eyed it and grimaced. “That’s because your taste buds go all numb. Now tell me about the naked thing.”


“You’re out of luck on that one. Last time I checked this wasn’t truth or dare, was it?”


If she was standing, she so would have stomped her foot. “Spike,” she said in a whining voice, pleading with him with her eyes for good measure. “Tell me?”


“Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that.” He sighed in defeat. “It was 1897. Let’s just say one angry mob caught us with our pants around our ankles. And let me tell you. Spanish folk are like dogs with a bone.”


“Was it your bone, you mean?” She snorted, feeling more than a little jealous when she thought of the reason his pants were down for the count.


“Hey, I’ll have you know it’s a bloody misery to run with your bits flapping in the breeze.”


Only then did something occur to her. “Wait. Did you say pants around our ankles? I thought women wore dresses back then.” She frowned, trying to work it out.


Spike’s eyes widened and he let out a nervous laugh that immediately raised her suspicions. “Yeah, I meant my ankles! Right.”


Well, if it weren’t a woman… “Oh. My. God. Were you having fun with another man? Like naked kind of fun?” Her eyes lit up. Well this put all kinds of images in her brain, and the visuals were surprisingly erotic so the jealousy receded considerably. Not to mention it had happened before she was even a twinkle in her parents’ eyes. And ew, so not thinking of her parents making babies. Only about the hot man-on-man action. She grinned. “Was there oil involved?”


“We were drunk! And I didn’t even enjoy it. Much.” Now it was his turn to pout.


“So who was on top?”


“Buffy,” he said with a warning tone.


“Who was the lucky guy? Was it some hot Spanish toreador?”


Spike groaned and yanked the bottle of Vodka out of her hands to take a gulp.


“Angelus,” he muttered.


Her jaw dropped open. “You and Angel?” Oh, the visual. The rippling muscles and deep growling as they strained against each other, skin on skin, touching, kissing.


Spike snapped his fingers right in her face. “You in there?”


“Uhh… sorry. Just, you know… you and Angel. Never would have thought.”


“Makes you hot, doesn’t it?”


She squirmed. “It’s my turn now! So… I have… well, I wanted to say I’ve had sex with a man but I can’t really use that now.” Spike shot her a dirty look. “Oh I know. I have a period every month.”


Spike licked his lips. “Is that a hint, love? Offering me a treat?”


“What? Eww, Spike! You’re disgusting.”


He shifted closer to her and trailed his fingers up her inner thigh. “Not to me it isn’t. More like gourmet cuisine. All the best flavours in one delicious Slayer package.”


She slapped at his hand, blushing. “No treats for you, Mister. Now drink.”


“If you insist.” He smirked and bent down to nip at her inner thigh, lips trailing a hot path higher and higher.


“Spike!” she squealed.


He straightened up and looked entirely too satisfied at the way he had made her breathless. “Sorry. Got confused there for a moment.”


He reclaimed the bottle and she watched as his lips caressed the smooth rim. When he tilted his head back, her eyes remained glued to the muscles of his throat as he swallowed. Just as he was pulling the bottle away, a translucent droplet escaped the corner of his mouth.


Buffy closed her fingers around his wrist to prevent him from wiping it off. Their eyes locked before she slowly shifted closer and leaned in to lick it off, his skin cool and smooth under her tongue. Spike cupped the back of her head and turned his head to catch her in a deep kiss. Alcohol tasted so much better off Spike’s lips.


She pulled away and slowly opened her eyes. “Yummy.”


His eyes had softened with emotion she wasn’t quite ready to say out loud and the intensity of his gaze made her weak all over as she slowly caressed his firm chest.


“Love the way you taste,” he whispered, the back of his hand sensually caressing her cheek.


“Love… the way you taste too.”


And if she was being honest with herself, that wasn’t the only thing she loved about him. What she felt for Spike, she couldn’t compare to the way she felt for Angel. Because what she had with Spike didn’t feel like standing on the brink waiting for something bad to happen, always being suspended in longing for something she knew wouldn’t come.


Spike made her laugh rather than cry and now that she had come to know him, Buffy realised what it felt like to be with someone who was her equal. How well they fit together. How it was futile to keep pretending she wasn’t falling in love with this incredible man that made her feel like a woman rather than a girl. And the way he was gazing at her with such adoration in his eyes, open and so much like her, had her acknowledging that even if given the choice to be with Angel, she would choose Spike.


“What are you thinking so hard about?” he asked and smoothed the crease between her brows with the pad of his thumb.


She smiled crookedly. “About how amazing you are.”


He stared at her, seemingly caught unaware, and her heart melted just a little bit more when his eyes wrinkled at the edges as he smiled. She carefully straddled his lap and wound her arms around him in a hug. Without any hesitation, Spike returned the embrace, his cheek smooth against hers as he rubbed her back in wide slow circles.


“What’s this all about then?”


“Just felt like hugging you.”


“Oh. Alright.”


She buried her face in the crook of his neck and inhaled the manly scent of his skin. She could spend hours just breathing him in. The crispy fresh scent mingled with something deliciously spicy and something just a bit bittersweet that reminded her of dark chocolate. Before she attacked his neck like a woman starved, Buffy pulled away.


Right after she quickly stole a kiss from his soft lips, Buffy crawled off his lap and swallowed a giggle at the silly smile on his face.


“Your turn, Spike.”


*******


One hour later Spike watched Buffy in an ever growing amusement. She got tipsy after taking two more gulps. For a Slayer, she really had a miserable excuse for a constitution when it came to alcohol. She had long since passed the stage of tipsy and gone straight to sloshed.


“Spike,” she slurred. “Gimme some more Danny.”


“If it’s Jack Daniels you meant, then no.”


“But I wanna more drinky now!”


“No way in hell. You’ve had enough, and as of right now, I’m cutting you off.”


“You’re mean!”


She went to slap him on the shoulder but missed and fell against him instead. Spike toppled on his back with a whoosh and before he could get up, Buffy straddled his lower legs and pressed her face against his stomach.


“Umm… what exactly are you doing?”


“I want to nuzzle your belly,” she said and exhaled hot stream of air against his quivering abdomen.


“As much as I’d like that, we’ll have to postpone it a bit, yeah?”


“Wanna lick your belly button.” She rolled up his T-shirt and he groaned helplessly as she stuck out the tip of her tongue to circle his belly button.


“It’s so cute,” she said and giggled. “Cutesy little button!”


Against his better judgment, Spike rolled them over. With a great deal of effort, and fighting off Buffy’s wandering hands, he pushed himself up to his knees and tugged the hem of his T-shirt down. He was a bloody saint, he was. What kind of an evil vampire resisted the very warm and insistent woman?


The kind of a vamp that’s in love with a slayer. That can only happen to me.


He had gotten himself into quite a pickle this time, and the worst thing? He didn’t mind at all. But once the alcohol had worn off, all bets were off. He’d snog her little knickers off, the insufferable tease.


She stuck out her tongue and poked it with her forefinger.


“What are you doing?” he asked, laughing.


“It’s floppy,” she said, frowning, and smacked her lips.


“I happen to like your tongue.” Spike smirked and edged her way closer to her. “So… any dirty little secrets you want to share?” Oh yeah, now this, he could take advantage of.


“Sometimes I steal Giles’ cookies.” Her eyes turned wide as she looked around, probably expecting to see Giles hovering over her shoulder. “Don’t tell him.”


“I won’t. On one condition.”


“What?”


“Tell me something juicy because I can’t believe a naughty little Slayer like you wouldn’t have anything embarrassing to tell.”


She turned bright red and picked at the comforter. “My mom almost caught me once.”


Now that sounded promising. “Doing what?”


She crawled closer to him and whispered, “Not gonna tell you.”


“Oh, come on. Did she catch you diddling yourself?”


“Diddlenening?” As soon as the tangled word passed her lips, Buffy started giggling and propped her hand up on his thigh to stay somewhat straight. Except, her sense of coordination seemed to have gone downhill with the alcohol she’d consumed and her hand slipped.


Spike almost jumped in surprise, grunting when she ended up squeezing his bits for a couple of torturously blissful seconds.


“Oopsie!”


He’d already had to wash his spare pair of jeans after she’d rubbed against him, making him shoot off like a rocket a couple of hours ago. No need to get excited again and ruin these too.


Tell that to the little head, Spike. He shot a reproaching look at his unruly privates.


Buffy snorted and in her effort to sit back lost her balance and toppled off the bed. Concerned, and determined to ignore his arousal, Spike glanced over the edge.


“Are you okay?”


“Shh!”


“Wh-”


“Shhhh!” She staggered to her feet and made her way over to the window. “It’s raining!”


Before he could gather his thoughts, never mind respond, Buffy let out a whoop and darted out of the front door.


“Bloody hell!”


She was quick as a lightning of the storm rapidly brewing outside and he ran out after her. Promised he would look after her, hadn’t he? The sun would be rising in a few minutes and his only saving grace were the thick dark clouds rolling across the sky.


Barefoot and dressed only in a short skirt and tank top that were quickly becoming drenched by the sheets of rain, Buffy slid down the slick grass with a squeal of enjoyment. He couldn’t help but grin and run his gaze from her soaked hair to her cute little toes, appreciating the way her clothes clung to her body.


“Spike!” She stumbled towards him and threw her hands around his neck before she planted a sloppy kiss on his lips. “Don’t be a poop head and just stand there.”


He let out a mock indignant gasp at being called such name. “Did you just call me a poop head?”


“Yup!” She smiled drunkenly and gazed at him with mischief in her eyes. “I know a secret.”


He lifted his scarred brow, running his hands down her sides. “Do you now?”


She leaned into him and bit his earlobe before whispering, “You said my name.”


Spike frowned. “I said it many times.”


She shook her head wildly then swayed on her feet as the movement induced dizziness. “When… the chick told me. And she was ugly, you know. With… ugly hair and… tall. Too tall.”


“Pet, what are you talking about?”


She blinked water out of her eyes and furrowed her brows. “The Ama… the umm…”


“Amazon?” Spike asked, his stomach sinking with the hint of where this was going. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure he wanted to know.


“Yes! She told me, but you didn’t!” She poked him in the sternum. Hard. “Jerk.”


She knew? All this time she knew and she didn’t say anything about it? Didn’t taunt him that he’d had the hots for her even before they embarked on this insane adventure? Why?


“But I’m not angry,” she said.


He tried to focus on her eyes through the falling rain. “You’re not?”


She shook her head. “At first I thought… that you wanted just sexy times. And if that was true, I’d have… I’d kick your ass. Just have sex once and go, but… you wouldn’t now, would you?”


“No, no I wouldn’t,” he sad quietly.


She chewed on her lip and gazed up at him. “’Cause you love me?”


TBC
 

A/N: Sooo? Disappointed? Satisfied? I'd love to know. :)