Title:  Pillow Talk

Author:  Miss Murchison

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer:  All characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.  Only the lame plots and dialogue herein are mine.

Notes:  A Spuffy story that starts in early Season 6 before deviating from canon.   A slight change in circumstances, a different decision or two, and you wind up with very different results.

Thanks: To Keswindhover and revdorothyl for the beta.

The story begins here. A list of links to the individual chapters is here.

Chapter 28

She was laughing as they ran through the cemetery and into his crypt, clanging the door shut behind them like guilty children.  Her back against the door, she looked up and saw he was smiling back at her.

"Damn it, Spike, it's been a long time since I had that much fun without killing anything."

"You really need to work at other ways of having fun, Slayer." 

Maybe I should. 

And maybe if he just leans forward a little, he can touch me, kiss me.

She waited impatiently for two seconds, but he just stood there with that goofy grin on his face, so she dropped her axe and the bone on the floor and pulled him into her arms.  His axe clattered to the ground a moment later. 

She was becoming addicted to the taste of him.  A non-starving vampire's flesh wasn't as cold as most people expected, and it warmed quickly from contact with human skin, but there was still a special something about it.  At least, there is if you've been cursed with a vampire kink.  In Spike's case, that inappropriately sexy tang of inhumanity was overlaid with ashes from his damn cigarettes and, usually, whisky.  She hadn't expected to find that exciting.  Another step in self-knowledge, I guess.

But tonight Buffy thought she also tasted a lingering flavor of chocolate and coffee.  Sweet.  She remembered him feeding her strawberry cheesecake a few nights ago.  I should have fed him some and then kissed him to see what that was like.  She stopped kissing him now to rub her cheek against the ancient leather of his coat.  She liked the feel and scent of that too.

Of course, the cheesecake episode had turned out to be part of a spell.  Like a good trailer to a bad movie, it had segued into one more disaster in the continuing train-wreck that was the life of Buffy Summers. 

Thinking about wrecks reminded her of more recent history.  I can't believe I just encouraged him to destroy that van.  He's incorrigible anyway, but now every time I tell him not to smash something up, he's going to throw tonight in my face.  Her fingers found his belt buckle. 

On the other hand, I can't believe I had such a good time trashing those idiots' ride.  His zipper was down now.  She must have done that, because his hands were busy elsewhere.  One had slipped under her shirt and was doing things to the underside of her breast that made nerve endings she hadn't even known she had shiver in anticipation.  The other was caressing the nape of her neck as his lips crept along the line of her collarbone.  I'm being such a bad girl, destroying property, making out with a demon…  I really, really can't remember when I've had this much fun.

 Too much fun, maybe.  I'm acting like a crazy person.  But her thoughts weren't crazy-confused at all. They were crystal clear, the way they were in a big fight, when every sense went on full alert and she seemed to be able to take in everything happening around her effortlessly, while her body moved smoothly and efficiently, each muscle under her complete command. 

She slipped her other hand into his jeans.  Hmm, I seem to have some of Spike's muscles under my command too.

Her blood was thumping the way it did in battle.  She realized that he was murmuring her name over and over, and felt a pang of remorse.  Poor Spike.  He thinks he's finally with the girl he loves.  He doesn't know I may not really be Buffy.  That I'm probably not even a proper Slayer anymore.  

She reached her free hand up to his cheek, gently coaxing him to look at her.  The glimmer of light that made its way through the small, grimy windows was just enough for her to see how dark and intense his eyes had gone.  How could something evil look at anyone with so much love?

I wonder, could he look at me like that if I wasn't really his Buffy? Am I that good at pretending?

She didn't feel like she was pretending right now.  "Buffy," he moaned again as she guided his lips to hers. 

Maybe he didn't fall in love with the old Buffy after all.  I know now that I stopped being that girl even before I jumped from the tower.  And he has to have realized by now that he can hurt me.  He's just silly enough to think that I haven't noticed.

She was exploring his mouth with her lips and tongue, and her hand was busy massaging his cock.  Maybe broken me is what he always wanted. He groaned again and she spun them around, pushing him back against the wall, her own legs spread to grind herself against his thigh. 

This still isn't right, but I'm all I have to give him.  And maybe an improper Slayer is what he wants.  After all, as vampires go, he always was a little strange, even before the chip, even before he started risking his life for me and Dawn. He wasn't a proper monster at all.

He'd apparently decided they weren't close enough, because he was lifting her up against him now, not too high and a little to one side so as not to interfere with what her hand was doing to his cock.  One of his hands was gripping her ass, the other against her back.  Her weight was nothing to him, of course.  He was nearly as strong as she was.

A maimed Slayer and an improper monster.  She liked being held like this, liked using her fingers to make him gasp with pleasure.  She realized she was kissing his neck now, as he muttered something. She tried to sort the sounds out into words.

"Ah, love, the things I'm going to do to you, the places I'm going to touch you." 

"When?" she whispered, giving him another teasing lick.

"Just as soon as I can think of anything besides what you're doing to me."

She laughed.  We're both misfits. Maybe that's why I fell in love with him.

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