Chapter Twelve

Willow and Giles quickly got over their surprise at seeing Spike and Buffy back so soon, demanding details of the battle that had taken place only yards away from the apartment. All they had been able to see from the window was a flurry of activity from which only Spike and Buffy had emerged.

“Elves? Real elves?” Willow was very excited, wanting to run outside and look for them until Spike assured her she wouldn’t be able to find them, and that they wouldn’t be happy about it if she did.

Giles was in complete research-mode, asking for details about the adult elves and their weapons. His frown when Buffy mentioned calling 911 for the woman outside went unnoticed by anyone except the vampire, who shrugged apologetically and gestured at Buffy with his head. A sigh and a nod of acceptance were the only signs that Ripper might have preferred another outcome.

Buffy kept a watch out the window to be sure that she hadn’t left Maggie alive only to have her fall prey to a wandering vampire, but no one approached the group of cursing, immobilized soldiers or their dead and injured bosses, until the police and ambulances arrived. Close behind the police car was a Humvee out of which stepped several military officers who quickly filled the local police in on the “rogue” unit that they were there to shut down. Sunnydale’s finest were more than happy to turn over everything - including Riley’s body, which was still sporting the silver arrow that had ended his attempt to stake Spike.

While Giles and Willow joined Buffy in watching the activity outside, Spike draped himself over the overstuffed chair and watched the slayer.

What the bloody hell am I goin’ to do with something that good and full of light? She’s…she’s effulgent. Not what I deserve, but I’m not giving her up without a fight.

Buffy glanced over her shoulder, the tingling from the tiny wounds on her neck drawing her attention back to the vampire. Her eyes met his and for just a second she caught a glimpse of the emotions roiling within him, even as he pretended to be sitting casually and waiting for her.

Her breath caught in her throat at the devotion he couldn’t hide quickly enough, and she left the window to walk over and climb into his lap. Ignoring Giles’ disapproving throat-clearing, she snuggled into the vampire’s willing arms and yawned. She rested her head on his chest, half-dozing as she waited for Willow and Giles to tell them that all the excitement outside was over. If someone had asked her to explain how she could feel safe and comfortable in the arms of a master vampire, she couldn’t have done so. She just knew that she did; knew that as long as she was with Spike she could let down her guard, confident that he would dust before he allowed anything to hurt her.

When Willow announced that the parking lot was now cleared of all signs of the struggle, and was as deserted as it had seemed to be before, she came back into the room and sat down, yawning herself as she stared at the two blonds nestled into the big chair. She tried to be frightened by her friend’s obviously close relationship with the vampire, but something about the way he was holding Buffy while she dozed peacefully on his chest made it impossible to worry.

Even the watcher, as unhappy as it made him to think that Buffy was involved with another vampire, had to admit that they could form a formidable team for the forces of good. And that Buffy’s trust in William the Bloody seemed to be justified. It seemed pointless to try to deny whatever was between them. The vampire glanced up and caught the eyes upon him, meeting the watcher’s gaze steadily until Giles nodded and looked away.

After offering Willow the guest room for what little was left of the night, he took himself to bed, leaving the living room to his slayer and her vampire.

Spike let Buffy sleep for an hour, but when his senses told him that dawn was approaching, he put his mouth next to her ear and whispered, “Wakey, wakey, Slayer.”

“Mmmmph”

His warm chuckle stirred tendrils of hair, tickling her face and bringing her awake. She squirmed around on his lap until she was facing him, her knees on either side of his thighs.

“You’d better have a good reason for waking me up,” she grumbled, unconsciously sniffing his neck as she burrowed back into him.

“Well, I did have one – the sun’s going to be coming up soon and I need to get somewhere for the day.” He pushed his hips up into her, allowing her to feel the bulge growing in his pants. “But now I’ve got a better one,” he purred, running his hands up under her shirt and unfastening her bra. While Buffy arched backwards on his lap, he pushed her shirt up and fastened his mouth on one rosy nipple.

By the time he had suckled both to hard little peaks, she was thoroughly awake and aware that they were still sitting in her watcher’s living room. The vampire had slid down in the chair until he was almost reclining with Buffy lying on him, her legs still on either side of his hips. His purring was setting up vibrations that made her forget completely about her best friend and her watcher, asleep upstairs.

“Want you, Slayer. Need you, love. Need you now—“ His words were cut off when she fastened her mouth on his, whimpering into it as she realized that once again the tight pants she was wearing were going to be an impediment to the immediate gratification they both wanted.

“Dammed pants,” she gasped, rubbing herself against him harder.

“We’re going shoppin’ tomorrow night,” he growled back. “You’re gonna wear nothing but skirts from now on. And no knickers unless I tell you to.”

“Unless you WHAT?” She sat up slightly and glared at him. “If this is more of that vampire claiming crap, you can just—mmmph”

He stopped her scolding with his mouth, running his tongue around hers, sucking on it and on her lower lip, keeping her too immersed in what he was doing to remember what had upset her. Eventually, frustration and the lack of a good deep breath of air had Buffy pushing away from his body.

“Stop it,” she hissed. “We can’t do this here. We’re going to wake them up.”

“Don’t care,” he pouted, reaching for her again.

“I care! And you’ll care if Giles comes down here with a stake in his hand.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, sitting up and balancing her precariously on his knees. “Where can we go then?”

“Well…since Willow’s here, I guess we can go back to my dorm room. I have to change into clean clothes before class tomorrow anyway.”

With a nod of agreement, he rose gracefully to his feet, still holding her around the waist. He let her down gently and planted a kiss on her nose before suggesting, “Best leave the watcher a note, pet. Jus’ so he doesn’t think I did away with you while he slept.”

Buffy scribbled out a quick note saying that she was going back to the dorm and would see Giles late in the afternoon. She propped it up on the chair in which they had been sleeping and took Spike’s waiting hand, allowing him to pull her towards the door. A quick run through the deserted streets put them outside the dorm. Buffy quickly used her key to open the locked doors, laughing at his surprise that he’d been able to get in before.

“They only lock them after midnight,” she said, rolling her eyes at his ignorance of American college life. “It was early when you came looking for me before. Not that it was a very smart thing to do,” she added with a frown. “It’s not like you blend, you know.”

“Wasn’t tryin’ to blend,” he growled. “Was tryin’ to bag my third slayer.”

Buffy stiffened beside him, halting with her hand on the stairwell door.

“Bollocks! Me an’ my big mouth.”

“And how’s that working out for you?” she asked coldly. Her voice lacked any trace of its usual affection, and he was immediately reminded that the little girl in front of him was the creature from which his kind usually fled.

“I’m guessin’, not real well right now,” he responded honestly, thoughts of spending the rest of the night buried in her warmth rapidly vanishing. “I’m sorry, love. You know I didn’t mean that—“

“Yes, you did. That is why you came here that night, isn’t it? If Cave Buffy hadn’t thought you smelled good, you would have used that beer to get into my room and you would have killed me.”

“I don’t know, Slayer,” he answered, surprising himself and her with his candor. “Yeah, you’re right. Was planning on killing you. At least I thought that was my plan. Thought I hated you.” He paused and gave her a brief glare. “And you hated me. Don’t pretend you didn’t.” His shoulders slumped and he sat down on the bottom step, hands dangling between his knees. “It’s what we are, Buffy. Vampire. Slayer. I can’t change that. Can’t change what I’ve done in the past. All I can do is tell you that the thought of killing you went away the minute I had you in my arms – and it’s never comin’ back.”

He raised his head so that she could see the sincerity in his eyes. Buffy held his gaze, her tense posture gradually softening as she accepted the truth of his words. She sighed and joined him on the step, sitting just close enough to be near, but without touching.

“I’m sorry, too,” she finally mumbled.

“You’re sorry? What in hell for, Slayer? I’m the one keeps remindin’ you of what I am. If I could learn to keep my bloody mouth shut…”

“If you could learn to keep your mouth shut, the world would probably end,” she snarked, a trace of a smile on her lips.

“Hey!”

“You know it’s true,” she said, her smile growing wider for a second; then she sighed and shook her head at herself. “And I know it’s true. I need to stop over-reacting every time you say something stupid.”

“Like reminding you that I used to want you dead?” he said ruefully, edging closer.

“Yeah. Like that. I need to stop taking it so personally.” She turned her head sideways to meet his softening gaze. “Don’t I?”

“Not your fault, love. I’m a bloody wanker for sayin’ things that remind you of all the ways that you’re too good for me.” He tentatively raised one hand and pushed her hair off her face. “Too good by far, you are. We both know it. I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve a chance like this.”

“Apparently, you smell good,” she said quickly in an attempt to lighten the mood. When he brushed his lips over hers gently, she breathed into his mouth, “And you kiss pretty good, too. I think that might have something to do with it.”

By the time she had finished speaking, Spike’s mouth was firmly fastened on hers and his tongue was doing things to remind her of why they had left the watcher’s apartment. For several minutes they remained on the step, mouths glued together. With a whimpered complaint, Buffy pulled her mouth away, gasping, “My room. Now.”

With supernatural speed, the vampire was on his feet and holding the door open for her. She walked past him, trailing one hand across his taut stomach as she did so and smiling at the small growl it elicited. In no time, she had unlocked her door and they were falling into the small room, already tugging on each other’s clothing.