Buffy’s mouth dropped as she opened the passenger side door.
She was met with the sight of her husband, her mate, her almost 200-year-old grown ass vampire, reclining in the seat, a dumb pair of aviators covering his eyes and a rhinestone encrusted Starbucks tumbler in his hand.
The cup had no lid, and she could clearly see he’d put blood in it. He held the wheel in one hand and the cup in the other, taking long draws through the big reusable straw.
Mostly the sun glasses were dumb because they made it hard to see the sexy things he was doing with his eyebrows as he looked up at her and sucked on the straw.
“What the hell?” she asked, covering her mouth to hide her giggles.
“Don’ laugh at me, woman. It was the only one they had left.”
“And you needed it… why?”
“S’a long trip from Frisco to LA, and I still don’t trust you to drive the highway. Man’s gotta eat sometime,” he replied, taking another long drink.
“I got that, but you picked that cup?”
“I was already at Starbucks getting your fru-fru coffee and it was the only one they had left. Coulda stopped somewhere else but figured you’d be brassed off if I was late. Now, are you gonna get in the damn car or just stand there with the door open hoping to fry me?”
Buffy laughed and rolled her eyes, dropping down into the passenger seat.
“You’re such a drama queen, the light was nowhere near you. Now hand over the fru-fru coffee and nobody gets hurt!”
He chuckled and passed her drink to her.
“Like you could hurt me, Slayer,” he teased.
Spike had started driving, but he knew the expression he would see if he turned by heart. She was challenging him.
She leaned over to whisper in his ear, “The usual wager?”
Spike groaned and shifted but managed to keep his eyes on the road.
“The usual. We’ll use the poof’s training room once we get into the city.”
“Good, I can knock those goofy sunglasses off your face. The glass is necrotempered, doofus, you don’t even need them.”
He glanced over at her for a second, offended.
“Hey! I look bloody handsome in these sunglasses, take it back!”
She gave him a devilish grin, running her hand over his thigh.
“Be careful what you wish for, love, I might just have to pull this car over at a rest stop.”
Buffy sighed and looked over at him.
“Tempting as that is, we’re already running late.”
“And whose fault is that?” He shot her a look. “And besides, world won’t end if we’re late.”
“Spiiiiiike, we’ve been over this. It’s Angel and Cordy’s wedding.”
He smirked at her, eyes still on the road.
“Exactly my point.”
“He’s your grandsire and my ex, and Cordy’s our friend. We need to be there on time.”
For a while the only noise in the car was the engine and Spike’s near inaudible grumbling. Finally, he raised his voice so she could hear him.
“You really don’t like the glasses?”
His voice was a little sulky, and Buffy’s heart melted. She knew exactly how to fix this, though. When she spoke, her voice dropped to a sultry level and she ran her hand over his neck.
“You’re really complaining that I think you’re sexier without anything on?”
“Bloody hell, woman. That’s it, we’re stopping somewhere.”
Buffy laughed, but didn’t fight him. The searing look in his eyes when he whipped off the sunglasses was too promising to ignore.
They were late to the wedding.
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October 29, 2020 21:21