FIC: The Inevitable Conclusion
Title: The Inevitable Conclusion
Summary: Spike wants to spar and test himself against the might of the Slayer. Buffy has other ideas.
Rating: R
Word Count: 330
A/N: Written for sarian71's birthday on the 11th. Happy birthday, hon! A day early and hopefully not a dollar short.
“You ready?” Spike danced on the balls of his feet, weaving from side to side in front of her.
Buffy gave him her best unimpressed look. The eyebrow lift of scorn, the eye roll of dismissal, the I’m-better-than-you smirk, the toss of her head that screamed ‘oh please, you’ve got to be kidding me.’ All modes of nonverbal mockage had been honed to an artform over seven years of slaying.
He scoffed at her blasé attitude. “What? You think you can take me?”
“Oh, I can take you. Blindfolded. Both hands tied behind my back. Easy.”
“Oh, yeah? Let’s see what you’ve got, Slayer.”
Accepting his challenge, she unzipped her dress, letting it fall to the floor and pool around her feet. He blinked. His eyes grew impossibly wide. She gave him a minute to collect himself.
“You’ve been gadding about town all day without your knickers on?!”
“Uh huh.” She raised her arms, shook her wrists at his eye level, invoking the image of invisible handcuffs, then placed both hands behind her neck. Amused, she followed his gaze down to her uplifted breasts and shrugged provocatively. He shuddered. She kept smiling. He was so easy to wind up. “I told you I could take you.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, swallowing harshly. Then he squinted. “Hey, that’s cheating!”
She shrugged again, unconcerned with his affront. He’d wanted to spar, she’d wanted to fuck. Sure, maybe she hadn’t told him when she’d decided she wanted more than the usual rough and tumble, but he was supposed to be good at reading the signs. Not that it mattered. Was there even a question of how this was going to play out? “I make my own rules,” she reminded him.
A slow grin, a head shake that said he should have known better and then he was standing in front of her, his cool breath on her lips. “You win, love.”
She tilted her head back, nibbled his lip and murmured, “I always do.”
******
Summary: Spike wants to spar and test himself against the might of the Slayer. Buffy has other ideas.
Rating: R
Word Count: 330
A/N: Written for sarian71's birthday on the 11th. Happy birthday, hon! A day early and hopefully not a dollar short.
“You ready?” Spike danced on the balls of his feet, weaving from side to side in front of her.
Buffy gave him her best unimpressed look. The eyebrow lift of scorn, the eye roll of dismissal, the I’m-better-than-you smirk, the toss of her head that screamed ‘oh please, you’ve got to be kidding me.’ All modes of nonverbal mockage had been honed to an artform over seven years of slaying.
He scoffed at her blasé attitude. “What? You think you can take me?”
“Oh, I can take you. Blindfolded. Both hands tied behind my back. Easy.”
“Oh, yeah? Let’s see what you’ve got, Slayer.”
Accepting his challenge, she unzipped her dress, letting it fall to the floor and pool around her feet. He blinked. His eyes grew impossibly wide. She gave him a minute to collect himself.
“You’ve been gadding about town all day without your knickers on?!”
“Uh huh.” She raised her arms, shook her wrists at his eye level, invoking the image of invisible handcuffs, then placed both hands behind her neck. Amused, she followed his gaze down to her uplifted breasts and shrugged provocatively. He shuddered. She kept smiling. He was so easy to wind up. “I told you I could take you.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, swallowing harshly. Then he squinted. “Hey, that’s cheating!”
She shrugged again, unconcerned with his affront. He’d wanted to spar, she’d wanted to fuck. Sure, maybe she hadn’t told him when she’d decided she wanted more than the usual rough and tumble, but he was supposed to be good at reading the signs. Not that it mattered. Was there even a question of how this was going to play out? “I make my own rules,” she reminded him.
A slow grin, a head shake that said he should have known better and then he was standing in front of her, his cool breath on her lips. “You win, love.”
She tilted her head back, nibbled his lip and murmured, “I always do.”
******