Buffy felt Spike’s lips touch hers before she realized it, soft and yielding. They were cool, pliant, and wonderful. He brushed them over hers lightly, carefully. There wasn’t any of the ostentatious, over the top kissing of their pseudo-engagement, but the same sensuality was there, playing under the surface. She could feel it.
His lips covered hers, the space between them careful, like he was afraid to get too close, but at the same time, didn’t want to move away. His teeth grazed her bottom lip, pulling it slightly, and she sighed, tasting his breath as it mingled with hers. Sweet, with the light hint of cigarette smoke, much less than she would have guessed from the way he smoked. Spike took the opportunity to trace the crease of her lips with his tongue, begging entrance.
At the same time, his weight shifted above her, more intimately, but allowing him to brush a hand up her arm, from elbow to shoulder. The feather light touch continued, tracing her collarbone until it reached her throat.
The first light touch on her neck was like a wakeup call, a splash of cold water. She grabbed at his chest and pushed him sideways, rolling him off of her. She lay there for a moment, panting, before pushing herself to her feet. He moved at the same time, and she moved behind the pummel horse, putting distance… and the object… between them.
She held up a hand, silencing him. “Don’t.”
She bit her lip, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “I’m going to go. Now. Mom will… she’ll be wondering where I am.”
Spike knew that was a lie. Joyce would be tucked away in bed, expecting her daughter to be out patrolling for a good long while. Still, he forced a nonchalant expression onto his face and nodded.
“Alright, Slayer, don’t want your Mom to fret.” He paused for a moment. “I’ll get you home.”
“No, it’s okay. You… you should go home too.” Buffy grabbed her hooded shirt and pulled it on, pushing her hair behind her ears. Her hands danced for a moment uncertainly for a moment before she folded her arms over her chest.”I mean, you’re still with Harmony, right?” Buffy stressed the vampire’s name. It was as much a reminder for her as it was for him, reminding herself of her own commitments. “She’ll be worried about you.”
Spike couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his mouth at that. She glanced up at him, and he sobered, but not before he noticed the twitch of smile that crossed her lips.
She stood there awkwardly for a moment before she turned and headed for the door. Twisting the knob, she paused as she opened the door, turning to face him again.
“Yeah, pet?” He stood where she’d left him.
“What just happened… It can never happen again.” She paused, her eyes down before she met his again. “But… I think I’ve just found that thing you were talking about. That thing to keep as my own, away from Riley and the others. If you’re interested.”
Spike felt like he could have shouted, could have grinned until his face split. He could have bloody run hollering through the streets, whooping like an adolescent. She wanted to spend time with him, alone, even though he’d just bloody well blown it by kissing her. She wanted her time away from the others, the thing she could call her own to be spending time with him.
So he simply nodded and said, “Sure, Slayer. Anytime.”
* * * * * * *
Kicking the covers from her body and her bed, Buffy reached, bleary eyed for the trilling phone on the bedside table. Fumbling with the receiver, she pulled it to her ear, rubbing sleep out of her eyes with her head still half buried in her pillow.
The soft, reassuringly British voice of Giles flowed through the earpiece, causing the Slayer side of Buffy to sit bolt upright in bed, ready for action. Unfortunately, the Buffy side of Buffy was still clinging to what vestiges remained of her sleep. The result was that Buffy propped herself up on one elbow, yawning enough that she almost missed half of what her Watcher was saying.
“You weren’t still sleeping, were you?” Giles sounded both awake and alert as usual, not to mention slightly incredulous, as if a normal person couldn’t possibly still be asleep on a Saturday morning.
“Who, me? Still asleep at…” Buffy glanced at the light of the alarm clock on the table beside her, “Eleven thirty.” She yawned again, louder. “Sorry. I—“ She paused, “There was slayage on patrol last night. Kinda ended up pulling a patented Buffy all-nighter.”
Okay, so she’d lied to Giles. But did it really matter that she and Spike had broken into his shop late last night with a stolen key to fight and ended up… Buffy squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Thoughts of the bad, Buffy. Forget that… please.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you alright?” When Buffy responded with an affirmative, he continued, “Did I wake you?”
“Don’t worry yourself on that front, Giles. Who needs sleep anyway, when caffeinated beverages are in large supply?” Concentrating on the background noise, Buffy picked up strains of conversation on the other end. “Are the gang there? I swear I can hear professional magic talk.”
“Oh, yes, the ‘gang’ a-a-a-are here. I was hoping that when you’re able, you could come by the Magic Box.” Buffy could almost hear the man cleaning his glasses. “Nothing… alarming. Nothing on the Glory-front that is, but we do need to talk about some recent developments that have come up of-of late.”
Buffy sighed, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed and to the floor. Stretching, she grabbed her favorite towel and her bathrobe, hanging them both over her arm. “Okay, Giles. I’ll be there soon.”
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