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Free Cable? by BloodEnvy
 
Anywhere But Here
 
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CHAPTER ELEVEN

“I really should go…” Buffy giggled, her words triggering another kiss from Spike, his tongue running over her stomach. He’d been cutting off every coherent thought she’d had so far, and it was fast becoming something she was causing on purpose. “I mean, it is my sacred—Oh!”

Spike had just slid up her body and closed his mouth over her nipple, pinching it with his teeth. Pulling away he smirked at her. “Your sacred what, sorry love?”

Buffy shot him a hard, scornful look before pushing his head back down to her breast. Laughing into her skin, Spike gladly returned to licking, sucking and nibbling at her breast, his deft fingers creeping up her body to pinch her other nipple.

Enjoying another few minutes of his oh-so talented hands and mouth, Buffy sighed and pushed him off, scooting away out of reach. It was strange how quickly she’d gotten comfortable, being naked around him. Guess playing dominatrix in a bar and three days in a hotel room could really loosen a girl up.

Grabbing the discarded singlet off the floor, she shook her head at the tattered remains. It had somehow been destroyed in the last hour or so. It was a good thing Spike had brought her more than one pair off clothes. Ripping a length loose from the top, she used it to secure her hair back in a ponytail, standing up.

Spike lay on his back, his arms spread out dejectedly. Huffing a huge sigh of disappointment he rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow.  “C’mon pet, bloody torture it is, leaving a guy in the middle of it.”

Buffy stuck her tongue out at him before turning back to the bed, sifting through the clothing. “God, why couldn’t you get me any normal clothes?” She held up one of the raciest shirts- a black fishnet with a bright red bra fixed into it.  Shaking her head at his hopeful expression, she chucked it at him, hitting him in the face. “Where did you get these from anyway?”

“Gotta have my secrets, don’t I?” Spike smirked, throwing the shirt back onto the bed as he stood, stretched and scoped the room for his pants, scratching his chest.

“Oh, God, they’re from your dead hooker victims aren’t they?” Buffy dropped the skirt she was holding, an expression of horror plastered to her face. Spike had to force himself not to laugh at the fact that she cared about that while standing stark naked in front of him.

“My ‘hooker victims’?” Spike repeated, offended. “I don’t go after hookers! I have some sense of class! Besides, they taste terrible. Too salty.”

Buffy closed the distance between them abruptly, slapping him on the chest.

“Can you not joke about killing people?” She demanded.

Spike flinched from the hit, but rolled his eyes at her all the same. “Alright, alright. Don’t get your knickers twisted. He reached around and pinched her ass. “But that might be bit hard, mightn’t pet?” He grinned at her, tongue curling behind his teeth.

Buffy smacked him on the arm, and turned back to the bed, swatting away his wandering hands as she resumed her clothes search. Finding his jeans hidden under the twisted sheets, she threw them at him, before pulling out her own outfit.

Appraising herself in the mirror, Buffy shook her head. “That’s it. We’re swinging by my dad’s to pick up my clothes before I head home.”

“’We’?” Spike asked idly, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Yeah, ‘we’.” Buffy rolled her eyes as she shoved clothes back into the bag. “I am so not paying for the cab back home. Besides, you can just drop me back in Sunnydale on your way to… wherever the hell you’re headed.” She shrugged, nonchalant despite the fact that her heart had just dropped into her stomach. She knew she would have to leave the hotel eventually, but… she didn’t really expect to care.

Why did she care?

“Where… where are you going?”

Spike shrugged into his duster, his eyes down. “Not sure, love. Brazil, maybe.”

“Oh, that’s... cool, I guess.” Buffy muttered, babbling, zipping the leather closed. “Not my first choice for ‘Anywhere But Here’, but I guess it’d be nice.”

“Anywhere but what?”

Buffy shook her head, “Anywhere But Here… it’s a game. You know, the place you’d wanna be more than anywhere else in the world. Will, Xander and I play it at school. You know, right before a math quiz or something. There’s usually someone famous involved.” She laughed, looking down.

It felt like a lifetime ago. Sitting in the courtyard at school, listening to Xander talk about the waterslides, worrying about pop quizzes. A different world.

“Oh, yeah? And what would your answer be?” Spike stalked towards her, slowly. He was doing that irresistible thing with his eyes… where he gazed up at her from under his brow.

Buffy giggled again, letting him slip his arms around her waist and turn on his heel, plopping down on the bed, pulling her down onto his lap. “It changes every week. That’s kind of the point.”

“Well, what’s this week’s then?” Spike smirked, tongue curled against his teeth.

Buffy pretended to ponder the idea for amount, tapping a finger against her cheek. “Not sure, you first.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder, a look of rapt attention on her face. “Where is the one place you’d want to be most in the whole wide world?”

“Hmm… the place I want to be the most in the world? With the person I want the most?” Spike met her eyes, his expression serious. “I’m in a bar. Some bloody awful place filled with broken glass and there’s blood and booze all over the floor. I’m naked and hogtied to a mechanical bull, and being fucked by the most beautiful bloody woman in the world.”

His expression didn’t waver, and Buffy dropped her eyes, pulling away from him. “Spike…”

Spike let her stand, his arms sliding off her waist. He watched as she took a few steps away, putting a few feet distance between them, her back to him. “Pet…?”

Buffy hesitated, turning back to face him. He’d moved silently from the bed and was standing a foot and a half from her. She inhaled shakily, catching the scent of distressed leather, cigarettes and a strange earthy scent that was uniquely Spike. Closing her eyes, she held them shut for a few moments before finally speaking again. “Spike… I… you don’t have a soul.”

“I can still love.”
 
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