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Never Ever Tell by Lilachigh
 
Chp 5 Warm, red and salty
 
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Never Ever Tell by Lilachigh

Warm, red and salty

“Giles! Make her stop!” Spike yelled as the Watcher walked out on them, irritated by their bickering.

Buffy giggled. She could hear Giles in the other room telling Willow that if they didn’t kill each other, he might. She leant over Spike in the bath tub again, whispering, “Go on, Spikey. Take a little bite. All warm and red and salty.”

The chains rattled violently as the vampire tried to get to her, his dark blue eyes blazing with hunger. “You’re just a big tease, Slayer,” he hissed, the straw from his blood snack still in his mouth. “Is that how you get yourself off now that Peaches has left you high and dry?”

Buffy sat up straight on the edge of the bath. “I am not a tease,” she snapped crossly. “And I don’t need to ‘get myself off’ as you so politely put it.”

Spike raised an eyebrow at her and leaned back against the white enamel. “What, no passion running through your veins, Slayer? No little aches or itches that you can’t scratch yourself?”

Buffy felt her face going as red as her sweater. “Shut up, Spike,” she hissed under her breath, glancing backwards to make sure Giles wasn’t within earshot. She would die of embarrassment if he heard what they were talking about. But luckily she could hear him still chatting with Willow - something about a truth spell.

“Make me!”

She gazed down at him. God, he was so irritating. He now had the straw in the centre of his mouth. Even as she looked, he pursed his lips round it and waved it up and down just as if -

She was going to kill him! That was so rude, so completely unnecessary! Just because a couple of nights ago at Thanksgiving she‘d been a little tipsy and in the dark she’d let Spike kiss - well, not kiss, more like nibble her breast. Now he thought he could make sexy gestures at her and she would - what - ? Let him kiss her again. As if that was going to happen!

“Giles and Willow are going to do a truth spell on you,” she said. “So there! They’ll force you to tell us all you know about the Initiative.”

A smile twitched the lips still holding the straw. He shifted it to one side again. “Funny things, truth spells, Slayer. All sorts of little nasties can coming creeping out of your mind. I wonder what they’d find if you took one?”

She watched, fascinated, as the straw slid back across that full bottom lip and he sucked hard at the little drop of blood still inside it. Why were his lips such a beautiful shape? God, where did that thought come from? A truth spell. She pressed her legs together - hard - wishing the edge of the bathtub was a little narrower so she could straddle it and -

Stop it, Buffy! she screamed inside her head. Oh God, a truth drug would show what she wanted to do to herself, wouldn’t it? And that all she could think of when she looked at his mouth was how it would feel to have it sucking at her -

Oh God, she was insane. She was going straight to Hell, not stopping, not passing Go.
She leapt to her feet, picked up the mug of blood she’d taken away from him only minutes earlier and held it under his chin. The straw stopped its sexy dance and plunged down into the red liquid. He began to suck again, but he wouldn’t stop looking at her and she realised she was leaning further and further towards him...

When sadly - no, bad thought again! - thankfully, Giles came back into the room.





Meeting 18 All Over Again

Spike had been lying in the bath for a couple of days now. It wasn’t that uncomfortable - soddin’ hell, he’d been in far worse places, usually with the addition of pain and torture - and that was just from his family, Angel, Darla and Dru. No, the problem was he had too much time to think. He’d made a joke of it . “Spike’s had a little trip to the vet and can’t play with the other puppies any more.”

Oh, yes, barrel of laughs all round, folks. He rattled the chains, tugging once more in an attempt to free himself, but the Watcher for all his nancy ways, knew how to tie knots. He’d probably been a bloody boy scout. Spike savoured the idea of asking Giles where he kept his woggle when he got returned, then his thoughts swung back to himself again.

Yes, there was too much time to think. What did the chip in his head mean? He was a vampire, he bit people, he lived on blood, he was evil, for god’s sake. That hadn’t changed. What was he supposed to do for all the centuries that lay ahead of him? Sit around and learn embroidery? Join some poxy midnight gardening club?

He’d heard how Angel had gone down hill fast when he gave up the blood feasting. Munching on rats and other little nasties, cadging coins for bags of pig’s gore from the butcher’s. Was that what lay ahead - brooding and misery and centuries of despair? Spike shut his eyes, digging deep inside him for the courage he knew he would need.

No, by god, he wasn’t Liam. He’d never suffered from that bloody boring Irish melancholy. Good for pulling the birds, he supposed, but not for him. He would find a way to survive on his terms -

Her scent reached him first. She smelt of Spring - light and zingy, foaming pink and white apple blossom against a bright blue Kent sky on a May day - children laughing, dancing round a Maypole with green and white ribbons in their hands.... His eyes flashed open, confused at a memory that he’d thought had gone a long time ago.

Buffy was standing in the doorway. She looked - Spike licked his lips - eatable. Red top, slinky skirt, her hair long and curly and very blonde. “Going out on the town are we, Slayer?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, Spike, but yes. We’re meeting Willow at the Bronze. Help her - well, not that I agree, but you said she was having problems with Oz going and so - ” Buffy bit her lip. “I just came round to tell Giles where I’d be if I’m needed, but he’s not here.”

“Believe it or not, Slayer, he’s gone to the sodding Library. He’s got enough books in here to open one of his own, but no, he needs to go to the official Sunnydale Library. I’d reckon he had a bint there, if he wasn’t so old. I’ll tell him you called when he gets back. Shut the door as you go. It’s draughty - and I’m in the bath!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve got all your clothes on.” She peered hastily into the tub to make sure he had! “Anyway, thanks.”

“Oh, think nothing of it, Slayer. I mean what else do I have to do but lie around and be your bleedin’ messenger boy! Of course, you could always unchain me and let me come with you. I’d promise to behave - if you want me to.” He leered up at her from under raised black eyebrows and she stepped back hastily.

“In your dreams, Spike!”

“Lots of things happen in my dreams, Slayer.” He laughed and she refused to let her face go red. “So has wolf boy gone for good?”

“I don‘t know. Maybe.”

“He‘s discovering how difficult it is to be different,” Spike said softly, almost to himself. Then he shot her a glance that cut through her assumed indifference. “It’s a hard lesson to learn. You know that, Slayer. I know that. And with this chip in my bonce, I reckon I’m just about to learn it all over again. The danger will be that Red will want to be different, too, now. That’s when you’ll need to watch her.”

Buffy nodded thoughtfully. “OK. I’ll watch. We’ll all watch.” She started to walk away, towards her friends, to music and dancing and fun, then hesitated. She banished the stupid thought that she and Spike had sounded like some old married couple, sharing their problems, searching for a solution.

She turned and looked down at the platinum blond head, the cheek bones that slashed upwards under his pale skin. Spike seemed to see some things so clearly. Probably because he hated them all so much. But what was it about Willow that concerned him so deeply?

She stared down at the vampire she hated most in all the world who was entertaining himself by lying in the bath tub, eyes shut, tapping his dusty black boots together and humming along to a tune only he could hear inside his head. She hated men who hummed! ‘What do you mean about Willow wanting to be different?’ she asked him .

One bright blue eye opened and gazed at her. “Oh, you’re back, Slayer. Didn’t get very far then? Can you turn on the telly for me?”

Buffy bent down and pulled the plug out of its socket with one swift movement. Ignoring Spike’s roars of anger, she sat on the edge of the bath and waved the plug in front of his face. “Tell me, bleach boy,” she said, “or the TV dies for good!”

Spike growled under his breath, rattled the chains that held him, then relaxed back, a little smile curving his mouth. She found herself gazing down at that full lower lip, wondering.... “So, talk!” she snapped, forcing herself to concentrate on what was important.

Spike sighed. Sometimes he forget just how young and inexperienced the Slayer was as a person. Great Slayer, good killer and all that, but as a human being, a mere child.
“When something huge and bad happens in your life, it isn’t enough just to carry on as you were before. You feel compelled to change everything - your friends, your job, your way of life, even yourself.”

“I didn’t feel like that when Angel left.”

Spike raised his scarred eyebrow. “I said huge and bad, Slayer, not petty and good!”

Buffy felt herself going red. Ignoring his words - which she would remember over and over again in the depths of the night - she asked, “And is that what happened to you?”

Spike’s sarcastic expression vanished for a second and Buffy blinked as she thought she saw a glimpse of someone - well, it was a ridiculous word to use where Spike was concerned - but someone vulnerable.

“Exactly, sweetheart. Well, to be fair, my life was changed for me by my dark princess, but once that had happened, after I died, I wanted to be different, live in a different world with new people.”

“Spike, you went to live with vampires!” Buffy broke in. “Anyway, being turned doesn’t count. We were talking about Willow.”

“Oz has left her. Her first boyfriend. The only guy who’s ever seen her as anything but a pal, a friend, if I’m not wrong. I take it her unrequited love for the whelp was never returned?’

“What? Who? What? Oh, Xander, no. They’ve known each other since they were children.”

Spike shrugged and wriggled deeper into the bath. “So, here was wolf boy, making Red believe that although Xander didn’t think so, she was, in fact, a normal attractive female. And now he’s gone and shattered all that belief into tiny little pieces.”

“But she’ll get over him.” Buffy hugged herself. “We all get over people.”

Spike gazed up at her. Did she really believe that? Then she’d never truly been in love. One day, he realised, she would fall for someone so hard that she wouldn’t even believe it herself. And he wondered why that annoyed him so much. “She’ll get over it by deciding to be a different Willow,” he said gently. “And she’ll use everything in her power to make that happen.”

Buffy felt a surge of despair. She had so much to contend with in her life at the moment. Willow’s problems just seemed like one burden too many. She hadn’t changed when she lost Angel, or when she died. OK, she’d run off to L.A. after the Master, but she’d come back and was still herself. If she could die and not alter, then why was Willow such a mess?

She jumped up off the bath. She was going to be late for the Bronze. Goodness knows why she was sitting here having a discussion with Mr Evil Dead himself.
“I think you‘re making it all up to distract me,” she said. “If you want to talk about something interesting, get remembering all you can about the Initiative.”

Spike smiled lazily. “I’m too stressed to remember anything,” he purred. “I need my neck rubbed. Any offers?”

Buffy flounced to the door.

“Oi, what about the TV plug?” Spike shouted angrily.

“You shove it in!” Buffy snapped and went red to the tips of her ears which rang with Spike’s laughing words, ‘Promises! Promises!” following her all the way down the street!

another meeting follows soon









 
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