CHAPTER TEN

“For crying out loud Spike, has it stopped bleeding yet?” Buffy sat on the bed, one leg tucked underneath her. She held her hair over one shoulder, while the vampire behind her ran his tongue over the bite mark on the other.

“Mm-mm” Spike mumbled a negative, licking at the wound. She was sitting in front of him, wearing a short black leather skirt and a red singlet, and asking him, a vampire she used to try and dust every other night, if he’d finished cleaning her wound. God, she was something.

“You’ve been licking it for like ten minutes; it has to be dried up by now.” Buffy argued indignantly, unwilling to admit the effect his ministrations were having on her. She’d finally managed to pull herself away from his wandering fingers and gotten dressed, only to find out she was still bleeding from the bite mark on her shoulder. She’d gone searching for bandages, but halfway to the bathroom Spike had somehow managed to convince her that she didn’t need them.

She wasn’t really sure how ‘medical attention’ translated into ‘sensually licking her shoulder and collarbone’, but she couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her spine. God, why was she so responsive to everything he did?

Spike kissed her neck softly. “Gotta make sure I get it all, love. Wouldn’t want it gettin’ infected now, would we?” His warm breath brushed against her skin, sending goose bumps up her arms. Pressing his lips to her neck again, he smiled and returned to her shoulder.

“Hello? Enhanced Slayer healing-power-thingy? I don’t get infections.” Buffy pointed out, trying to stand. Spike’s hand held onto her other shoulder, pulling her back onto the bed. “Spike! Look… I need to pee!”

Spike looked up immediately, and Buffy wriggled out of his grasp, jumping to the other side of the room.

“Gotcha!” She laughed, sticking her tongue out at him. Brushing hair out of her face, she glanced at the blinds. “God, what time is it? It has to be late.”

“Probably early morning, pet. Maybe two?” Spike reckoned, dejected, wiping his mouth with the back if his hand. He stretched, standing up again.

He was barefoot, wearing only his trademark black jeans and a black tee shirt. His hair had been mussed out of its usual slicked back ‘do, and a natural curl was evident. That, teamed with the bright blue eyes, angular cheekbones, devilish smirk and the sleepy look on his face? Buffy had to admit, he was downright adorable.

“And I’ve been here what? Two days?” Buffy asked, her brow furrowed in thought.

“Three love, if you count today. You pretty much slept through your first day here.” Spike corrected, running a hand through his hair. Grabbing his duster, he fished a packet of Marlboros out of its pocket. Grabbing a cigarette, he tucked it into his mouth and offered the packet it Buffy.

Buffy didn’t even bother answering; she just cocked an eyebrow at him. Shrugging, the vampire tossed the packet back on the floor and patted down his pockets for his lighter.

“Three days?” Buffy picked up the lighter, having spotted it half hidden under the bed, and threw it to him. She wrinkled her nose teasingly as he grinned at her, the cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. “That makes it what? Thursday?”

Spike shrugged, flicking open the lighter.

“Crap,” Buffy sighed. Spike looked up as he ducked his head toward the lighter, pausing an inch above the flame. “I should probably call Giles. I promised I’d call once I got settled in… you know, at my dad’s.” She smiled sheepishly, turning her back on Spike to grab the phone from the shelf. She’d put it there earlier for its own good... protecting it from her and Spike’s more… amorous activities.

“Wouldn’t want Watcher gettin’ worried.” Spike sighed. He strode across the room, and dropped the lighter on the bed, despite his unlit cigarette. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he tucked his chin on her shoulder. “He might think something evil had gotten to you.”

Buffy giggled, her hands sliding down to sit lightly on his. “And we couldn’t have that.”

Planting a kiss on his temple, Buffy picked up the phone and was halfway through dialing her Watcher’s number before she twisted to face him. Grabbing the cigarette out of his mouth, she quirked an eyebrow at him. “Now, are you gonna behave, or am I gonna have to lock myself in the bathroom so I can talk to Giles without moaning?”

Spike actually managed to look shocked, leaning away from her with his mouth hanging open in a mock-hurt expression. A few beats passed before he ducked his head in defeat, his arms tightening around her.

“Promise, pet.” he surrendered. He gave her a single kiss on her throat before pulling away, grabbing the cigarette from her hand and settling himself down on the bed, lighting up.

Buffy smiled affectionately at Spike, watching him from the corner of her eye as she finished dialing. Drumming her fingers on the table, she straightened as someone on the other end picked up.

“Yell-o?” That wasn’t Giles.

A second voice called out from the background. “Xander! What have I told you about answering the phone? Especially with such foolish phrases?”

That was Giles.

“’To refrain from doing so until I can learn to use words from the actual English language’” Xander recited, bellowing back, the humor evident in his voice. “So how can I help you, here at Casa De Giles?”

“Xander, it’s Buffy.” She shook her head in amusement as Xander yelled back at Giles that it was her, guaranteeing her an earache for at least a few hours.  “What the heck are you doing at Giles’?”

“Hey Buffster, miss you too.” Xander snarked jokingly, “how’s L.A. treating you?”

“L.A.?” Buffy paused, glancing back at Spike. He was sitting up, and it was obvious he was listening to Xander too. Stupid, super vampire hearing.

Spike grinned at her, flicking his eyebrows up teasingly. With a sheepish smile, Buffy turned her attention back to the conversation.

“It’s great. I’ve been you know, hanging out… staying in mostly. Got a whole new wardrobe.” She smirked at Spike, rolling her eyes as his eyes immediately roved over her body appreciatively. “So why are you at Giles’ place?”

“Well, since your Mom let you skip out on the last few weeks of school for reasons escapable to me, Wills and I haven’t had much to do. How did you get out of school?”

“Ah, that. I told Mom that I was having trouble after the Angel-ordeal… minus the vampire-forces-of-darkness part… and she suggested I go spend a few days with Dad. As long as I took plenty of school work with me… which I actually left at home.” Buffy laughed guiltily. “So you’ve really been that bored?”

“Well, it’s been pretty quite here in Sunnydale. You know, besides the occasional vamp stop-and-slay as they try to get out of town.”

“You’ve been slaying?” Buffy ignored Spike’s concerned eyebrow quirk, suspecting that it was unease for the other vampires he was feeling, rather than for her friend’s safety.

“Just when we have to. Don’t worry, we aren’t patrolling, we’re just kicking demon butt when it’s needed. At least, Will and I aren’t. Giles does ‘cause of Watcherly-Duty and all.” Xander assured her. “Now, I’m gonna pass you off to him Buff, because he’s been waving at me for the last ten minutes to hand over the phone.”

Buffy laughed, listening to Giles’ scolding and Xander’s shocked, mocking reply as he handed over the phone. She took the opportunity to glance at Spike, who was rearranging himself on the bed into a more comfortable position. He held up his hands in defense, showing her he wasn’t about to mess with her, but that didn’t stop him from circling his hips suggestively.

Buffy quickly tuned back in as Giles managed to wrest the phone from Xander. “Buffy? How are you?”

“Hi, Giles. I’m fine,” Buffy replied happily. Honestly, she’d almost forgotten about the world outside their hotel room. “How’s things back in Sunnydale?”

“What? Oh, uh, it’s… Well, we may have a problem.” Giles admitted. “I’ve spent the last few days going over some, uh, prophecies with Willow. It seems we may be due for a Black Sabbath.”

“The band?” Buffy asked as she sat on the edge of the bed, fingers tangling themselves in the phone’s cord.

“No, no.” Giles corrected. “Whenever Jupiter, Mars and Pluto are in retrograde, we are supposed to have what is called the ‘Black Sabbath’. From what we understand, this means that on this coming Sunday we will have an extended eclipse, which means—“

“Twenty-four hour feeding frenzy for the fang-gang,” Buffy stated slowly, her brow creasing further.

“Maybe longer. Without the complete text from the Grishlock Codex, which I haven’t uh, got personally, I cannot be sure how long the eclipse will last. The text we do have tells us only that it begins on Sunday, not when it ends.”

“And with Sunnydale being Hellmouth country, it’ll be at its worst there.” She guessed, ignoring Spike as he crawled up the bed to sit beside her, hands in lap and puzzled eyes on her face. “Alright, I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“What are you going to tell your mother?” Giles asked, concerned.

“I won’t tell her I’m coming home. If you can spare your couch, not telling her will free me up for twenty-four hour slaying duties.” Buffy decided.

“Of course, Buffy.”

“Thanks Giles, I’ll be back as soon as possible.” Buffy offered a wan smile he couldn’t see and hung up the phone.

“What the bloody hell was that about?” Spike asked immediately, concern on his face.

Buffy sighed, standing up. “Black Sabbath.”

“And by the look on your face, love, I’m guessing it’s not a concert.” Spike quipped despite the worried expression.

“No it’s some…” Buffy paused. “It’s nothing.”

“What? What’d your Watcher want? It’d have to be—“ Spike cut himself off, shocked. “You think that I’m still evil don’t you?” Catching Buffy’s guilty expression, he sighed and shook his head. “Buffy, love, look at me.”

Buffy bit her lip, but refused to meet his eyes, staring at the carpet. Reaching out, Spike caught hold of her arm and pulled her toward him so she was standing between his thighs. She looked so sweet, so young and so innocent standing there shyly, so different from the smart-talking, ass kicking girl he knew, so different from the Slayer. It was like she was… just Buffy.

Planting a kiss on her shoulder, he let his lips linger for a moment longer before staring up at her. Holding her chin, he forced her to meet his eyes, cocking an indignant eyebrow.

“You really think I’m still evil, don’t you? That I would head out and join whatever prophesied massacre or predetermined slaughter after what you’ve seen?” He asked disbelievingly, his tone soft. He hadn’t left go of her chin. “After you saw what was in that fridge, after… everything from the last few days, you still think I’m evil?”

Buffy hesitated, her eyes caught in his. God, they were so beautiful. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head. “No, I… I don’t think you’re evil. I just don’t know if you’re good.”

Spike smiled. “Well, I’m not saying I’m not the Big Bad anymore, but I’m not evil.”

“No I think you proved you’re still the “Big Bad”.” Buffy agreed ruefully, running a hand over her butt. Catching his grin she rolled her eyes before forcing the conversation back on track. “The Black Sabbath is supposed to be some event that basically means lights out, and it’s Slayer-Duty twenty-four seven.”

“’Seven’?”

“Giles isn’t sure when it’s supposed to end. Just that it starts on Sunday.” Buffy sighed.

“…Which means full-day feeding for the vamps in SunnyHell?”

“Home of the Hellmouth.” She remarked, resigned.

“And you thought, what? I’d go join the Buffet line?” Spike actually looked genuinely hurt.

Buffy shrugged, bending down to kiss his mouth softly, her hands on his shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess not. But I gotta go.”

“Go? What do you mean ‘go’?” Spike demanded.

“I got to get back to Sunnydale. Me being the Slayer and all.” Buffy pointed out, pulling away from him. Checking herself in the mirror, she frowned. Spotting the leather bag under the bed she dragged it out and tipped the clothes onto the bed, searching for something less sex-kittenish and more Vampire-Slayerish. “Why’d you have to wreck those jeans?”

Buffy jumped as Spike’s arm wrapped her waist and spun her around to face him. “This Sabbath thing ain’t ‘till Sunday, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, why should you leave Thursday?” Spike grabbed her, spun around and pushed her hard up against the wall.

“Spike! What the hell are you—“

“’Cause that just ain’t practical, love.” Spike murmured, before sliding slowly down her body to a kneel.