"Bloody, buggery conscience!" Spike kicked the tub, then hopped around from the pain.
He sighed and looked in the mirror, seeing the framed painting that hung behind him. Not supposed to have one of those.
"There's a writhing, hot little slayer in the next room, and what are you doin', mate?" he asked himself, bracing his hands on the sink. "Wankin' off in the bloody bathroom."
He fastened his belt buckle and walked out into the hallway. "Dawn! Christ, you scared me."
She smiled, hand on hip. "Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?"
"Used to be." He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "When did you get in?"
"Just now. Giles dropped me off. I heard you yelling, so I figured you guys were here."
You guys. The phrase made him smile. "We are."
"Buffy's in her room?"
"Yeah." She started in that direction. "But, uh -- wouldn't go in there."
"We had a run-in with a nasty demon. He got her with some sort of... mist. Makin' her act all daft. Might be contagious; don't want you to get anything."
"Is she okay?"
"Spi-ike? Where are you?" They heard from the bedroom. "I need you!"
"Coming, Buffy." Spike shifted uncomfortably. "Looks like she needs something."
"Uh-huh," Dawn said, arching an eyebrow.
"Go on and turn on the telly, I'll be down in a bit."
He watched her go down the stairs.
Spike took a deep breath and opened the bedroom door.
Buffy was still naked, sprawled across her comforter. "Spike!"
"Buffy," he sighed, locking the door behind him.
"No, Slayer. I won't." He flipped the desk chair around and sat down.
"'Slayer,'" she repeated with disdain. "You don't call me that anymore unlessssss... you're mad at me. Are you mad at me?"
"Far from it."
"Don't you love me?"
"So, what's the problem?" She grabbed a pillow and held it between her legs, turning on the bed. Exposing that marvelous peach of an ass. "Mmmm..."
He inhaled sharply as he watched her hump the pillow. "Where do I begin."
She shot up and faced him. "Spike, I've gotta come. I'm serious. You have to help me."
He smiled. Maybe he could just... Another sigh. Gotta be strong. "Help yourself."
She pouted. "If you're not gonna help me--" She made for the window.
"Slayer!" He got up and threw her back on the bed. "Do I have to tie you up?"
She smiled and moved like a cat, her ass in the air. "Betchya wanna."
God, he loved this girl. He shook his head. "That's not the point."
She rolled onto her back and held her hands between her legs. "Spike, help me."
His hard-on was raging yet again, thanks to the new spread-eagle view he was being treated to. He swallowed and asked softly, "Do you have anything?"
"You know... a vibrator... something like that?"
"Not ew... a lot of women use 'em. It's nothing to be ashamed of."
She sighed petulantly. "Under the bed."
He smiled and ducked under the bed.
"I never use it though."
"Uh-huh." He found a shoe box.
"Serious! Cordelia made me buy it a long time ago."
There it was, a shiny silver bullet of a thing. He twisted the bottom column. Fresh batteries. Never use it, huh? "Here." He pulled back the covers. "Get under. Have fun. I'll be over here."
"You're not gonna do it for me?"
"I really hate you." She got under the covers.
"Well, if you want me to do this you'll have to leave me alone."
"Don't get dainty on me now, Slayer. Can't chance you escaping and taking this out on some poor unsuspecting. I'm staying 'til you're done."
He heard a low buzz. His dick strained against his jeans and he silently cursed the demon that was doing this to them.
He looked up. "What?"
"Talk to me."
He was at a loss. She wanted him to talk dirty? Was that the same as taking advantage of her? Damn these gray areas... "What do you want me to say?"
"Tell me about... the first time you saw me."
His breath caught. She-devil, you are. "Alright," he said cautiously, then began the story, "First time I saw you... I wanted to kill you."
But not before fucking you into oblivion, he added to himself. "My first time at the Bronze. I went there looking for you. They'd given me a description -- blonde, hot, 'bout seventeen. There were a lot of girls in there that fit the bill, but only one that moved like a slayer."
"Found you dancing with your little friends. You were breathtaking. So alive, like a fiery ray of--"
He heard the thing shut off. "Cut the poetry, Spike."
Bossy bitch. "Just to make sure it was you, I sent a minion out for something to eat," he remembered, as he heard the buzz come back. "I got up close to you and shouted there was some big guy outside tryin' to bite someone. You went running, I knew it was you."
She was moving under the covers. How he wished he could be under there, truly invited.
He continued. "I followed you out there. Watched from the shadows to get an idea of how you fought. Quick on your feet and a wit to match -- I was impressed." He smiled. "Poor guy, thought he was gonna be the next big bad in town. You took him down in a heartbeat."
"Do you remember what happened next? I clapped, and you saw me for the first time. You were still hot from the fight, yeah, you were ready to take me on. You asked me who I was. I said something like, 'You'll find out on Saturday'. All balls and swagger. God, I miss the old me." He stopped to reflect fondly, then went on. "You said, What happens then? I said, 'I kill --"
Spike smiled, one eyebrow arching. "...you.'"
"Okay. Okay," he heard her say, gasping under the comforter. "Okay. Spike?"
That was the Buffy he knew. "Got it."
He stood up and exited, heading straight for the bathroom.
* * *
"What was up with you last night?" Dawn asked.
Good question, Buffy thought. She didn't quite know how to answer her sister.
Earlier that morning Buffy had padded downstairs only to be faced with a shirtless Spike asleep on the living room couch. Careful not to rouse him, she'd tiptoed past, then hid when she heard a snort. When she'd ventured a peep again, he was luckily still unconscious -- except that his thumb was hooked into his belt buckle, and his fingers were cupping the bulge in his pants.
"Even when you're asleep you know I'm around," she'd murmured with a half-smile.
Buffy cracked an egg into the pan. "What do you mean?"
"Spike wouldn't let me in to see you. Said you got hit by some demon smog or something and that you might be contagious."
"You were like, moaning for him," Dawn said, moving into histrionics, "All, 'Spike, I need you!'"
"Moaning? No. I was just... under some kind of mojo thing."
"Well, it was weird. For a second I thought something was going on between you two."
Buffy laughed, a little too loud. "That's funny."
"I know. That'd never happen." Dawn looked at her sister with an unspoken question mark.
"You rented 'Bring It On' again?" Buffy exclaimed, picking up the Blockbuster box on the counter.
"No, we haven't returned it yet. Spike likes it too much."
"Then Spike is paying the extra fee." She slung the box back to its place and congratulated herself on a successful subject change.
"I was surprised. Last night he actually fell asleep before his favorite part."
"His favorite part?" Buffy asked, trying to sound disinterested as she pushed the eggs around with a spatula.
"You know, when that brunette chick puts on the cheerleading outfit."
"The brunette? She's a total slag!"
"He told me he has a thing for tough girls in frilly outfits."
Buffy chuckled. "No argument there."
"I'll return it later today."
"Okay, but Dawn? I don't want you going out there alone."
Dawn sighed in frustration. "Why? I'm not a kid, and I'm not even a key anymore!"
"Those demons last night were really nasty," Buffy said, turning off the eggs and sitting down to face her sister. "I think they're looking for mates, and if they think I've got potential... I just want to make sure they stay away from you."
"But you can kick their asses, right?"
"Not really." Buffy rose to slide the eggs onto plates. "That smog thing Spike told you about? It made me... pretty much helpless."
"Helpless? You? How?" She took a plate.
Buffy resolved that her sister could take the truth. "It was some kind of aphrodisiac."
"Is that why you sounded all hornbaggy last night?"
"Well, you did."
Buffy sighed. "Yes, that would be why."
"Huh," Dawn said as she buttered her toast.
"What do you mean 'huh'?"
"You were like that, and Spike didn't try anything?"
"No," Buffy insisted, looking off into the living room's direction. "Actually... he was a perfect gentleman."