Buffy mumbled something rude under her breath at his joke, half amused and half exasperated by the humor at her expense. At least all of those uncomfortable nurturing feelings he'd stirred up in her seemed gone. It was much preferable to bicker good-naturedly with Spike than comfort him. Despite the soul and the spell things felt almost... natural between them. But better. The little rationalizations that ran constantly in her head for months was no longer needed. It was blissful, Buffy reflected with a half-smile at her reflection, just to let herself be with him.
She could hear--but not see--Spike get out of the shower and was suddenly intense grateful for the whole no reflection business. He wasn't up to their normal games yet, she was certain, and Buffy suspected that she would have gawked at full frontal Spike. Coughing delicately into her fist, she continued to stare straight ahead at her own reflection until she heard him pad safely back into the bedroom.
"Well then," she began brightly, turning around only when she was certain he had had time to dress. "We've wasted enough time here, we need to--"
She broke off as her gaze fell upon not a clothed and ready Spike, but instead a sleepy and nude vampire curled up on the bed. It would have been almost cute, under other circumstances.
"SPIKE!" Buffy protested loudly, striding into the bedroom and reaching over to tug the pillow out from under his head. "You can't just sleep here. We need to go. Now."
"snort AhhWah?" Spike's blurry blue eyes opened, staring blankly at Buffy. Then a big yawn stretched his jaw, and he gave several rapid blinks, trying to bring the slayer into clearer focus.
"Tired," he mumbled, summoning a clever rational for why she should let him sleep. Failing. Why? Why did they need to go? Out of respect for the departed owners of the shop and apartment who'd left this bastion of pinkness behind?
A majority of time that Spike and Buffy spent together seemed to be spent in other people's home and yards. Alleys. Abandoned houses. He couldn't see why thing should change now. Not when he'd gotten so comfortable...
"You go on without me," William said. Fallen solider down. "Don't have anything to wear anyway."
Buffy fell down beside him on the bed heavily, causing the mattress to bounce. She considered his half-way sleeping form for a minute, trying to decide if the rationale for wanting to pester him to come along was reasonable or not. As much as she liked to pretend she was actually concerned for the morality of breaking and entering, the truth was she just wanted him with her. It wasn't as if there was a danger to be fought yet, and so far she hadn't exactly been making much progress getting to bottom of the spell.
"Okay, okay fine. Be lazy. I guess you've earned a nap. But promise me you won't be naked or unconscious when the owners get back." Without thinking her fingers reached out slowly toward his face, flicking a wayward lock of hair still damp from the shower. "You'd make a very odd Goldilocks."
Buffy hesitated, reluctant to let sleeping vampires lie. "You should, uh, stop by the mansion when you're feeling... up to it." As if embarassed by this offer, she turned her back to him and busied herself with a quick perusal of her nails, inspecting how her brief manicure in the bathroom had gone.
Naked Spike slithered sideways, hooking his leg over Buffy's thigh, spooning her back to his chest. "Shy slayer," he murmured, nuzzling her face, careless of how the moisture still clinging to his body transferred to her clothing.
The drowsy vampire barely had the energy to roll onto his side, arm hooking over Buffy in a position that mirrored that of his leg. His action caused a whole lot of clanking as bracelets and leg bangles jingled and jangled.
"Did you wait for me, love?" His face turned into her hair, lips seeking that lovely spot just beneath and behind her ear, which always made Buffy squirm. He pulled her against him, tight, close, her ass against his lap. Then he allowed his hand to wander, sliding over her shirt and pants, stomach...thighs...fingertips gazing the cleft of her thighs.
"Been a long month...your fingers creeping beneath the covers...moaning into the pillows so you don't wake the others..."
Just for a minute, I'll leave in a minute, Buffy promised silently as she abruptly found herself curled into Spike's body. The shower had made his skin warm for once and it was all she could do to keep herself from melting boneless into the heat his naked body provided.
"Maybe, maybe I did," she whispered, sounding embarrassing breathless as his lips gently touched the sensitive skin behind her ear. She was intensely grateful he couldn't see her face or the telltale flush that spread across her cheek as she remembered just how frequently Spike had figured in her fervent imagination in the early hours of the morning when she'd returned from a night of slaying.
"But you're back now. Back to stay," she murmured happily, more to herself than to him. Oh, the fun she would have with him when he was back to always-ready-for-a-shag Spike. She shivered just thinking of it.
"You like that, don't you?" Buffy asked teasingly, both amused and aroused by his obvious interest in how prominently he had featured in her efforts at self-pleasure. It would be humiliating if he ever discovered just large a role he played. She caught the wrist of his wandering hand, squeezing it. "Same old arrogant Spike."
A soft, contended sigh escaped her lips and she allowed her eyes to close for a moment, savoring the rare sensation of feeling peaceful. That this sensation was caused by Spike seemed not to bother Buffy, for the timebeing at least.
Spike had never been good at hearing what Buffy's lips were saying when her body told him a whole different story, pheromones giving lie to her words. Oh, he realized that the slayer's mind didn't always align with her baser urges... He usually insisted, and at that point she either succumbed, or her fist inserted itself into his face to assert her will.
However, this time was different, and good manners got in the vampire's way. His rejected hand hesitated, and then retreated to a rather chaste resting spot upon Buffy's hip. He turned his face from the seductive crook of her neck, and instead pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, forehead pressed against the back of her skull.
Same Spike? No, not quite the same...
He sighed and surrendered to the sucking vortex of sleep, which was pulling him irresistibly down. Clinging to Buffy with his final vestiges of strength, because near her he felt safe.
She could hear--but not see--Spike get out of the shower and was suddenly intense grateful for the whole no reflection business. He wasn't up to their normal games yet, she was certain, and Buffy suspected that she would have gawked at full frontal Spike. Coughing delicately into her fist, she continued to stare straight ahead at her own reflection until she heard him pad safely back into the bedroom.
"Well then," she began brightly, turning around only when she was certain he had had time to dress. "We've wasted enough time here, we need to--"
She broke off as her gaze fell upon not a clothed and ready Spike, but instead a sleepy and nude vampire curled up on the bed. It would have been almost cute, under other circumstances.
"SPIKE!" Buffy protested loudly, striding into the bedroom and reaching over to tug the pillow out from under his head. "You can't just sleep here. We need to go. Now."
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"Tired," he mumbled, summoning a clever rational for why she should let him sleep. Failing. Why? Why did they need to go? Out of respect for the departed owners of the shop and apartment who'd left this bastion of pinkness behind?
A majority of time that Spike and Buffy spent together seemed to be spent in other people's home and yards. Alleys. Abandoned houses. He couldn't see why thing should change now. Not when he'd gotten so comfortable...
"You go on without me," William said. Fallen solider down. "Don't have anything to wear anyway."
Reply
"Okay, okay fine. Be lazy. I guess you've earned a nap. But promise me you won't be naked or unconscious when the owners get back." Without thinking her fingers reached out slowly toward his face, flicking a wayward lock of hair still damp from the shower. "You'd make a very odd Goldilocks."
Buffy hesitated, reluctant to let sleeping vampires lie. "You should, uh, stop by the mansion when you're feeling... up to it." As if embarassed by this offer, she turned her back to him and busied herself with a quick perusal of her nails, inspecting how her brief manicure in the bathroom had gone.
Reply
The drowsy vampire barely had the energy to roll onto his side, arm hooking over Buffy in a position that mirrored that of his leg. His action caused a whole lot of clanking as bracelets and leg bangles jingled and jangled.
"Did you wait for me, love?" His face turned into her hair, lips seeking that lovely spot just beneath and behind her ear, which always made Buffy squirm. He pulled her against him, tight, close, her ass against his lap. Then he allowed his hand to wander, sliding over her shirt and pants, stomach...thighs...fingertips gazing the cleft of her thighs.
"Been a long month...your fingers creeping beneath the covers...moaning into the pillows so you don't wake the others..."
Reply
"Maybe, maybe I did," she whispered, sounding embarrassing breathless as his lips gently touched the sensitive skin behind her ear. She was intensely grateful he couldn't see her face or the telltale flush that spread across her cheek as she remembered just how frequently Spike had figured in her fervent imagination in the early hours of the morning when she'd returned from a night of slaying.
"But you're back now. Back to stay," she murmured happily, more to herself than to him. Oh, the fun she would have with him when he was back to always-ready-for-a-shag Spike. She shivered just thinking of it.
"You like that, don't you?" Buffy asked teasingly, both amused and aroused by his obvious interest in how prominently he had featured in her efforts at self-pleasure. It would be humiliating if he ever discovered just large a role he played. She caught the wrist of his wandering hand, squeezing it. "Same old arrogant Spike."
A soft, contended sigh escaped her lips and she allowed her eyes to close for a moment, savoring the rare sensation of feeling peaceful. That this sensation was caused by Spike seemed not to bother Buffy, for the timebeing at least.
Reply
Spike had never been good at hearing what Buffy's lips were saying when her body told him a whole different story, pheromones giving lie to her words. Oh, he realized that the slayer's mind didn't always align with her baser urges... He usually insisted, and at that point she either succumbed, or her fist inserted itself into his face to assert her will.
However, this time was different, and good manners got in the vampire's way. His rejected hand hesitated, and then retreated to a rather chaste resting spot upon Buffy's hip. He turned his face from the seductive crook of her neck, and instead pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, forehead pressed against the back of her skull.
Same Spike? No, not quite the same...
He sighed and surrendered to the sucking vortex of sleep, which was pulling him irresistibly down. Clinging to Buffy with his final vestiges of strength, because near her he felt safe.
Reply
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