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Previous Chapter: Revelation
Next Chapter: Cooperation

Bizzaro Land, USA

Her old shirt might have been scraps now, but Spike’s fit well enough that she didn’t mind it so much. She also didn’t mind the genuine way he smiled and laughed when she told him about how bad Riley had smelled. She didn’t mind how he was very gently rubbing away all the dried blood with a torn off strip of his dress shirt. She wasn’t minding the cool feel of his fingers on the back of her wrist while he worked on a particularly stubborn patch of blood. She didn’t even mind that she didn’t mind.

She was fairly certain it was her birthday, or right around there. And she was still a prisoner, and now she was locked in a cell with the guy who used to be her most hated enemy. That title belonged to Walsh now, which put Spike significantly far down the list. So far down that the only person she could think of that she hated less than him was Harmony, which he’d been super offended about.

“Bloody hell, I’m so far down the list that only Harmony is below me?”

Maybe it was lack of real food, or sugar, or all the drugs they’d been pumping into her. Combination of all three? It wasn’t important. Point was, her world had been shit slammed sideways ten days from sunday by people she thought she could trust. Again. Just like Angel, and Faith, and that stupid jerk Parker. She’d looked up to Walsh. Admired her, even. Respected her. And Riley. Riley. He’d acted like he was the stand up guy. Mr. Solid and Secure and Safe. Take me home to meet your mom. Oh, by the way! I also torture creatures of the night for enjoyment. Pump ‘em full of drugs and drag ‘em back to my great big cave, that’s definitely not compensating for anything at all! 

Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!

She was tired, and sore, and hungry. She wanted a hot bath and clean clothes and a real bed. Cake and ice cream. But all she had was Spike, offering some semblance of comfort. And she was just going to happily accept it, because she didn’t have to worry about him betraying her trust because he didn’t have it. As soon as they got out, and Walsh and the Initiative were dealt with in some fittingly gruesome manner, they could go back to hating each other and having fights every Tuesday. Maybe not actually trying to kill each other anymore, but definitely still fighting.

For now, they had this, whatever it was. A cease-fire. A truce. Some kind of weird alliance. She didn’t even know what to call it.

She was leaned against Spike’s chest in the back corner of their cell, elbows resting on his knees to either side of her, letting herself relax for the first time since she’d been captured. His fingers were working their way through her hair, getting out the tangles and smoothing it down so that it looked much less wild than it had been before. She closed her eyes, getting lost in the feel of a solid person against her and the way his fingers felt.

He breathed, she realized. A steady rise and fall that went perfectly with the rhythm of him combing her hair. It was so… human. So unlike any other vampire she’d ever been close enough to to notice.

“..buh buh buh babuh, bah buh buh babuh… I wanna be sedated…”

Spike was singing. William the bloody. There was something she never thought she’d see. Or hear. And he wasn’t half bad, either.

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, you know.” she said simply, not wanting to break whatever it was that had come over them. It didn’t work.

His singing stopped, as did his fingers, and he inclined his head questioningly.

“The being sedated thing? Overrated.”

“Well, from your perspective, I suppose it would be, yeah. Song’s about being stuck though, and wanting something to kill it being mundane.” He wiggled his fingers against her scalp, sending shivers down her spine. “This is me being sedated, as it were.”

She felt her eyebrows raise at that, mouth twitching down, though not in a frown. More of a… huh, kinda thing. Spike, her once-nemesis, was feeling all ‘sedated’ by cuddling and running his fingers through her hair. Weird.

“I think it’s the blood. You’re obviously very stoned.”

His chest shook with a laugh, puffs of breath hitting the back of her ear and raising goosebumps across her skin. She knew, without looking, that he was flashing another one of those pearly white grins. He let his head drop, until his forehead rested on her shoulder. She could feel the coolness of his skin against hers through the fabric of her shirt. His shirt.

She kind of liked that.

He turned his head so that his nose was touching her neck and nuzzled into her. All of her slayer instincts were screaming at the danger. Right below that nose was a mouth, with very sharp teeth. They might have been blunt just then, but it only took a second for vampires to shift. Just a second, and he could have ended her life. And in the position they were in, she would have been helpless. He could wrap his arms and legs around her and she’d be pinned to him.

No weapons, no way to escape.

She should have shoved him away. She should have just let him starve, really. But nestled in his lap like she was, him surrounding her… it was comforting, not frightening. She knew how stupid it was. She did. And she knew that if they ever got out of there, nobody would understand why she hadn’t killed him already. They wouldn’t understand why she was letting him close to her. So they didn’t need to know.

“Slayer…”

He whispered her title, but the way he said it… so close to her ear, in that low tone that was something close to a growl but far more sensual. She felt it through her entire body, pooling in the pit of her stomach. She shifted her weight, trying to get some distance between their bodies. She was suddenly too hot, embarrassed that he could do that just by saying one word.

He sniffled a bit before he pulled away from her and sat up fully. “Sit up, I’ll get you covered so you can get some sleep.”

She scooted away from him, just enough that he could get up. It was only a moment, but she felt every inch of his absence. As much as she would never, ever, dream of doing anything with Spike… well, it wasn’t the first time he’d had that effect on her. She’d kind of come to accept it for what it was. But it had never happened like this, where he was there, and they were pressed against each other.

God, can he smell me? He probably can. Please let his nose be overwhelmed by body odor. 

He wriggled around behind her, not bothering to get up to remove his duster. There was quiet grunting and sighing and the rustling of leather and a curse or two, then he was drawing her back to his…

Very bare chest. Completely. No pretty red anything in the way.

Freak out, or just go with it?

“What..?”

She couldn’t even get ‘happened to your shirt’ out before he answered her. It was balled up on his collar bone. A little make-shift pillow.

“You need rest so you can heal up. You want to sleep on a cold hard floor, or a cold hard body? At least I can absorb your body heat and reflect it back at you. Like a blanket.” He paused, waiting for an answer. When she didn’t immediately give him one, he heaved a sigh. “One time offer, Slayer. Take it or leave it.”

She let herself relax against him. Let her muscles loosen just a bit. It was all he needed to throw his duster over her like a big cozy comforter. And he wasn’t all that hard. Not like the floor would be. He was more… chiseled? Firm? She wasn’t going to think about Spike being hard.

 How long had it been since she’d had somebody touch her without expectations? Before, it always had to lead up to something. Kissing, and then with the touching, the removal of clothes and… unsatisfying sex, at some point. And it never ended well. Not for her, at least.

But with Spike – he didn’t want to kiss her. He probably didn’t even want to be touching her, really. It didn’t have to go anywhere. Neither of them wanted it to. It was just a thing.

They were in a scary place, with even scarier things happening, and the only familiarity they had was each other. And wrapped up under his duster, listening to his steady breathing, she didn’t feel alone. She didn’t feel afraid.

And maybe he needed that just as much as she did.

Freak out? Why waste her energy on it? She didn’t have any to spare for it, and she really was dead tired, and the floor was so much less inviting.

“Thank you, Spike.”

“Don’t make a thing of it.” Too Late. “Just get some sleep, yeah? Try not to drool on the leather.”

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, almost a hug but definitely not because Spike would never hug her.

“I don’t… know what I’d do, without you here.”

***

An idiot, he was indeed. Great idea to suck on a rag full of Slayer blood and then let her cozy up to him real nice while he played with her hair. Even after weeks of being a prisoner, it still had that vanilla scent to it.  Wasn’t until she was already leaning on him that he realized the problem with it.

The very hard, obvious problem.

Damned aphrodisiac properties..

He was more of an idiot for egging that problem on. Got every last tangle out of that golden hair of hers, and even sang to her a bit. How she hadn’t noticed his erection pressed into the small of her back, he had no idea. He was just thanking whoever that she wasn’t trying to kill him for it. When he nuzzled at her throat and took in a good whiff of her and realized it. She was enjoying what they were doing just as much as he was. And turned on Slayer laying against him with her jugular a centimeter away from his fangs? Heaven help him, that was an intoxicating mixture.

So much so that he couldn’t help it when he uttered her name. Or title, rather. It was all the same to him. He felt the goosebumps as they raised on her skin, and he was almost done for. He’d been so close to kissing that delectable neck of hers, and the only thing that stopped him was that she started wiggling around.

God, did it make her blood rush though. She was all flushed and hot and her heartbeat raced just a little bit faster. Made his mouth water.

He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d say no to him right then. If he spun her around to face him and started kissing down her throat, what would her reaction be? Would she let him? Try to kill him?

And then the bloody chip went off, and didn’t stop until he got himself composed. Stupid thing couldn’t tell the difference between a fantasy and intended action, apparently, so he couldn’t even think about shoving her to the floor and seeing what those Slayer muscles could really do.

Probably make him think it was the bloody rapture.

Then he went and got more stupid, because he was in a mood for it clearly. Took his duster off for her to sleep under. And why stop at that, right? If you’re gonna give your most prized possession to your enemy to use as a blanket, may as well go full sack of hammers and start getting naked. What was the difference?

The t-shirt had been one thing. Exposed girl in a place full of demons who’d be very happy to do unspeakable things to her. She deserved some cover. William insisted, damn gentleman that he was. The nice dress shirt getting destroyed? For a good cause. All that blood going to waste just sitting there, and she wouldn’t let him use his tongue. Which would have been so much more efficient, of course, but she wouldn’t allow it when he’d tried.

But his duster? Sure, he’d give it to Dru without a second thought. Other than that, he wore it like a second skin. It was part of who he was. He’d bested Nikki for that coat, and the only way he’d ever give it up is if he was dust.

So when he’d taken it off for her, it bloody well meant something.

Was he buzzed off the blood? Absolutely. Was that the reason? He damn well hoped so. Tit for tat. She’d provided for him, so he provided for her. And while he couldn’t feed her like she had done for him, he could help her heal, and get some rest, and watch over her.

As for the little shirt pillow? Bugger it, right? At least he’d made sure she was positioned in a way that she wouldn’t notice little Spike rearing his head. As hard as he was, friction would have been unwelcome. He had enough to deal with without adding chaffing to the list. And he had a feeling that if she knew, she’d never get to sleep. She’d be up glaring at him from the opposite corner until her eyes bled and probably threatening his unlife, and she was much more pleasant to be around when she wasn’t being a right bitch.

He could deal with his discomfort if it meant she’d be more able to defend herself. If she slept well, she’d heal up faster and make more blood. She’d stay alive longer if she was more alert. Faster reflexes, more clever, better chances of getting the hell out of there in one piece.

They’d probably come round for her again in the morning and drag her away to do more of whatever it was they had planned. But for now, at least, it didn’t seem like she was on their kill list. They wanted something from her. And while he hadn’t the slightest idea of what that could be, he knew it couldn’t be good.

I don’t know what I’d do without you here…

Her words kept coming back to him throughout the night. How the hell was he supposed to respond to that? Nothing had come to mind, so he’d said nothing at all. But they’d had an effect on him. One he wasn’t exactly thrilled about.

The fantasies he was starting to have? All well and good. She was an attractive woman, and he didn’t have Drusilla around to occupy his time, or any privacy to take care of things himself. Certain urges and desires could be expected. Shag her raw with his teeth nipping her throat while she begged for more? Wouldn’t be the first time he’d done somebody in that way.

But when she’d thanked him, his heart went to his throat. It wasn’t often in his unlife that somebody really appreciated him. As much as he loved Dru, he knew she didn’t really care if he stayed or went. His decades of devotion meant nothing to her when she got in a mood, and she’d just as soon send him packing as have him around. So when Buffy expressed real, heartfelt gratitude…

He was able to save face and told her not to make a thing of it but… there it was. It was a thing. A great big wave of confusion is what it was. Emotions he’d rather not deal with at that particular moment, so he opted for trying to get some sleep of his own.

He shifted just slightly, adjusting the sleeping woman so that she was almost cradled in his arms. Her head pressed against his collarbone, back against his propped up knee, her legs curled over his extended one. He couldn’t help but brush the stray strands of hair away from her face and run his thumb along her jawline.

Gods, he still remembered the way she’d tasted. The way she’d felt in his lap before, when she hadn’t minded his very obvious attraction to her. How soft those lips were against his own. How responsive she was. How she pressed herself against him and touched him in all the right ways. And he almost wanted that again. Wanted her. But without it being a spell.

He let out a sigh and shook his head. What the hell was he even thinking? That he wanted the Slayer to fancy him? Absolutely not. He was just… stressed. Any port in a storm. Intrusive thoughts, that’s all it was. The blood probably still had traces of whatever they’d been doping her with in it. Certainly seemed to be making her more… attached? That could explain it.

He put it out of his mind as much as he could, with her curled up to him and warming his skin. He was going to sleep.

With the Slayer. You’re cuddled up, sleeping with the Slayer, you mixed-up, randy little git. Deny it all you want, ignore it, whatever you have to do. Just do not act on those stupid impulses.  Don’t bloody kiss her. Don’t even start with the moon eyes. She’s prey, that’s all she is. You’re just… you’re a monster to her. And as soon as you get the chip out, she’ll be raring to kill you again. And you’ll suck her dry. That’s the end of it.

He set his jaw, closed his eyes, and willed his brain to just shut up about it already. It was more annoying than Harmony talking about, well, pretty much anything. More nutty than Dru at her worst. He needed to kill something. Anything. Could vampires get lobotomies?

***

 

Long, slender legs, so well toned. Tan and soft and pliable under his lips. She smelled like lavender and vanilla on the surface, but underneath…

Beneath him.

She sighed her pleasure. Beckoned him higher, closer. Raked her fingers through his hair as he devoured her without mercy.

A delicacy that he would happily feast upon for hours if she’d let him. Such sweet nectar.

She trembled at his touch, shaky gasps of breath ripping from her lungs.

‘Please.’

She begged for release, and he gave it to her.

***

Her sudden movement was what woke him up. A response to feeding bags landing on the floor with a plop.

“Oh, oh my god…”

She pushed herself off of him and put as much distance between them as she could, which wasn’t much. Virtue fluttering in the wind, even though they hadn’t actually done anything. Reminded him what an absolute priss she was normally. Seemed like the honeymoon was over, then. Until the next time she was feeling lonely and wanted a bit of cold comfort, then she’d be back in his arms again.

“Rise and shine, lovebirds. Eat up. Big day ahead of you. You’re gonna need all the energy you can get.” Some hulking guy stood by the door, bigger and even more crew cut than Boy Wonder. “Oh, and you might want to put your clothes back on for it. Just a suggestion.”

Spike couldn’t help but smirk. No doubt that little bit of gossip would make it directly back to the one who had the hots for her. The only thing that would have been sweeter would have been him seeing it for himself. Oh, look at that. Security cameras.

It was going to be an entertaining day.

Author’s Note: 

The basic plan for this chapter before it was fully written out:

Blah blah blah cuddle cuddle sleepy time yay!

Then she kills demons and tells Walsh to go fuck herself.

 


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Table of Contents
Previous Chapter: Revelation
Next Chapter: Cooperation

Reviews ( 1 )

Zab Jade
December 30, 2020 09:53

Another excellent chapter of this truly excellent story. I love the bonding we get to see here.