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Take Your Bloody Pick

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Summary: Spike is chipped and trying to fight his attraction to the Slayer. When all he wants to do is mope in his crypt, the last thing he needs is a visit from his old friend Thomas Raith. Soon their friendship is tested as they both vie for Buffy's affections.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Literature > Dresden Files, TheMabelMarstersFR15714,7490173,05824 Jan 101 Jun 10No

Chapter Seven

Betad by dawnofme and seapealsh. Banner by dawnofme.

Disclaimer: I own no part of BtVS or the novels of the Dresden Files. I write purely for pleasure and not financial gain. No infringement of copyright intended. The plot, however, is my own and may not be reproduced without permission.

A/N - Set in early S5 BtVS. Thomas is plucked out of his world for this story. It's before the books start, so nothing in them will be used apart from things to do with Thomas himself like how a White Court Vampire reacts to a person who is in love.

Illustration






“Hey, pet.” Spike ducked his head as the term of endearment slipped out before he could bite it back.

“Spike. I didn’t think you’d be here again.”

As usual, his heart – which had swelled at the sight of her – fell to his boots.

“Oh…right, well, I’ll just—”

“Where’re you going?” Buffy’s hand stopped him mid-turn.

“Uh…away?” His left eyebrow quirked with hope.

Buffy stood on her tiptoes and peered over his shoulder. “Why? Are you with someone?”

Spike’s right eyebrow joined the left in surprise. “No.” And didn’t that make him sound pathetic. Hadn’t even got a friend to drink with. Unless… “Don’t suppose you want a drink?”

Smiling broadly, Buffy said, “Thought you’d never ask!”

Smiley Buffy. I guess she had another good day with Thomas. Git!

He bought her a Coke and himself a triple JD – no ice, but it was she who guided them back to the secluded table they’d shared the night before.

“Tell me more,” Buffy said, hitching herself onto the chair.

“More?” Spike took a deep swallow of his drink. “More of what?”

“More about you. I’ve never really thought of you as a per—” Blushing, she stopped and stared at her Coke.

Spike stiffened. “So,” he said slowly, “what did you think I was, if I wasn’t a person?”

“That’s not what I was going to say?”

“No?” He tilted his head to the side. “So what were you going to say?”

“Um…that I never thought of you as a…a…perfect vampire until now!” Buffy stared at him in triumph.

Holding in a smile, Spike deadpanned, “So, you thought I was a shite sort of a vampire, then?”

“What?” Buffy’s eyes widened at yet another corner she’d verbally backed herself into. “No…I meant….”

“I know what you meant, and it’s okay.” Spike took pity on her.

“But it’s not is it?” Her fingers touched his. “All this time…I’ve never really talked to you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like we’re gonna be best mates, is it? You’re the Slayer and I’m a vampire, or I was…until…” He waved his hand to his head.

“You’re still a vampire, Spike.”

“Just a fangless one.” Bitterness tinged the tone of his voice.

“If you didn’t have the chip, would you still try to kill me?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Liar.” She leaned back in her seat and grinned at him. “You’ve never really tried to kill me. Not even that time at the school.”

“I did. It’s just you’re tougher than you look.”

She shook her head. “No. You held back. I mean…you let Mom hit you with an axe!”

“I had a bloody lump on my head for days. She knocked me senseless.”

“Spike…just admit it. You’ve killed two slayers. Why didn’t you manage to kill me?”

He stared at his glass, then raised his head until his gaze met hers. After what seemed like an age he said, “You’re special. Just enjoyed the dance with you, is all.”

“The dance?”

“Yeah, that’s what I called it. When we fought.” He shifted uncomfortably, grabbed his glass, and downed the rest of the liquor. “Need a refill.”

Buffy watched him bolt for the bar and wondered why she hadn’t realised it before. Or had she just tried to pretend she hadn’t noticed that she had feelings for him? Now he couldn’t hurt humans, did she feel free to acknowledge it?

Spike returned. He placed the two glasses on the table and shrugged out of his duster. “Uh…want to dance?” He inclined his head to the crowded dance floor.

“No.” Buffy stood up and passed him his jacket. “I want the other dance.”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Really?”

“Really. It’s been way too long since I hit you.”

She grabbed his hand and laughing they hurried to the exit.

Unsure of whether Thomas would be hanging out around his crypt, Spike sighed with relief when Buffy led him towards a different cemetery. She halted in a wide expanse of grass between two mausoleums.

After a moment’s embarrassed hesitation, Spike said, “So…should we—” He reeled as Buffy’s fist found its way to his nose. “Bloody hell, woman! I wasn’t ready!”

Laughing, Buffy whirled and lashed out with her right foot. “Who said we have to play fair!”

Spike dodged her next blow by skittering to the side. “Aren’t you forgetting something? I can’t bloody hit you back!”

Buffy’s hand lightly slapped at his face. “I thought you said that it only hurt you if you hurt the human?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Keeping their eyes locked together, the pair circled warily.

“So…if we’re sparring, then you’re not trying to hurt me and so the chip won’t fire. That’s right, isn’t it?”

“Uh…that’s the theory.” Spike wiped his sluggishly bleeding nose with the back of his hand. “It’s not fair if you can hurt me though.”

He tilted his head and pouted.

“Who says I want to play fair?” Buffy chuckled.

The next moment he was flat on his back with the tiny slayer straddling him. He gritted his teeth and tried to will away the affect her warm body was having on him.

It didn’t work.

Buffy shifted a little, causing him to groan and bite the inside of his lip. Her eyes widened when his condition became obvious. Almost dusting from sheer embarrassment, Spike wriggled, trying to push her off before the inevitable look of revulsion marred her features.

“Look, it’s ju—”

Unable to help herself, Buffy bent forwards, her hair brushed his face, just as her lips covered his. He stilled his struggles, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her back with a ferocity that made him worry the chip would fire.

A swift hitch of his hips and it was Buffy whose back was on the ground. He still expected her to yell at him, to escape his arms and bolt, but she didn’t. She smiled up at him, before slipping a hand underneath his t-shirt, stoking his abs as it quested towards his chest. When she pinched his nipple, he hissed and nearly came in his pants like a kid.

“Oh, fuck, Buffy.”

“Only if you insist.”

Spike shook his head. “Huh?”

Her hand slid to the waistband of his jeans. “Do I need to draw a diagram?”

“Are you on something?” Spike sat up.

“What do you mean?” Buffy frowned. “You think I need to be on something to get it on with you?” Now she did push him away. “Christ, Spike, what’s your problem?”

“My problem?” He waved an arm in the air. “My problem? What am I supposed to think? You ran off yesterday and now tonight you’re like this? What’s a bloke to think?”

“You’re not supposed to think! You’re supposed to do. I want this.” She reached out and touched his face. “I want you.”

He swatted her hand away. “Did you want me at lunchtime? And don’t look at me like that. I know you had a date with bleeding Thomas.”

“You…you know Thomas?”

“Yeah, I know what you’ve been up to. So what does it make this?” He gestured between the two of them. “You’re feeling a bit horny from keeping your knickers on with him and thought you’d scratch your itch with old Spike.”

His head snapped to the side as Buffy slapped him, full slayer-force.

“You pig!”

She leapt up and disappeared from sight as she ran round the side of a mausoleum.

“Oh, way to go, Spike.” He rubbed at his stinging cheek. “Offered on a plate and you manage to piss her off.”

Climbing wearily to his feet, Spike trudged in the direction Buffy had taken. He sensed movement as he rounded the tomb, so ducked down and lunged at his attacker’s waist, forcing them both against the wall. His head exploded in pain as his assailant grunted. With a scream, he sank to his knees, aware of nothing but the agony. When he came to his senses, he opened his eyes and found himself staring straight into Buffy’s eyes.

“Oh, God, Spike. Are you alright?”

Knowing better than to nod, Spike managed to mumble, “Give us a minute and I will be.”

“Here, let me help you up.”

Too groggy to refuse, Spike took her hand and allowed her to haul him to his feet. He pulled his head away when she tried to touch his face.

“I’m fine.”

“I never…I never realised how bad the pain was from the chip.” Buffy gazed at him, itching to touch more than the hand she still held.

“Yeah, well… I try to avoid it as much as I can.”

“But when I’ve seen it before, you’ve just acted like the pain was like a migraine.”

He winced as he raised his eyebrows. “Buffy, do you really think that a sodding migraine would keep a vamp from feeding? It’s a bit worse than that.”

“You never said…”

Spike snatched his hand away. “Would you have actually listened if I did? You and your mates were all… ‘ooh, good! That’s one less vamp to worry about’. And anyway, why did you attack me? Going to stake me ‘cause I hurt your feelings?”

“Will you shut up for a minute?” Buffy’s voice echoed around the graveyard.

Startled by her outburst, Spike did just that.

“I didn’t attack you. You attacked me – which was kind of stupid given the brain-fry you know you’ll suffer.”

“I didn’t know it was you, did I? So,” he said with exaggerated patience, “why were you coming back?”

“Arrggh!” Buffy threw her arms into the air. “Why do you think? I came back because I wanted to do this.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his lips gently. “And before you ask, I am not under the influence of anything, okay. I just…” She ducked her head. “I spent lunchtime with Thomas, getting to know him and it got me thinking that I’d really like to get to know you too.” Taking a deep breath, she drew herself up to her full height. “But I can see it’s not what you want, so—”

“Don’t go! I’m sorry. It just…caught me by surprise, that’s all. Um…do you still want to dance?”

Buffy wanted to do a lot more than dance, but his lack of confidence in her intentions had shaken her, showing the vulnerability she never knew he had.

“Spike. I’d love to dance.” She grinned and aimed a punch at his midriff. “I promise not to hurt you…much!” Laughing, she sped off across the grass, glancing back at him.

He shook off the last vestiges of pain and took chase. Whatever Buffy was playing at, he was helpless not to go along with it. Thomas was right. He was totally head-over-heels in love with the slayer.

The End?

You have reached the end of "Take Your Bloody Pick" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 1 Jun 10.

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