Title: Out for a Beer 4/?
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, no matter how much I might wish it.
Warnings: Slash, angst, AU, Bits and pieces of seasons 5,6 and 7, bad Buffy.
Summary: This part, Spike feels the need to think and plan.
Beta(s): twinsarein and skargasm for without these ladies, there would be no fic.
Word count: WIP
All previous chapters can be found at my journal.
Spike sat sprawled in his recliner, the cell phone in his hand as he looked at the bag Xander had brought him. He knew he should go back to bed, but was too wound up to sleep. It had been a long time since someone had done something just for him. It made him feel giddy, and a sappy smile spread across Spike’s face.
He had acted like a ponce when he had woken up to find Xander gone. He knew when Xander had left, had felt the gentle press of lips to his shoulder and heard his words before Xander had left the crypt. But that did not explain why for a split second when he woke up the second time, he thought he had dreamed the whole night with Xander. He had flown out of bed, covers flying to the floor, as he bounded up the ladder and more than likely would have gone out the crypt door had it not been for the bag.
Sitting there all nice as you please. Just a simple backpack; nothing special about it. Sure, there had been a blooming onion in there, which he had shared with Xander, and yeah there was fresh human blood as well. ~yeah, my Xanpet sure knows how ta treat a vamp~ But it was the Passions episodes that Xander had gone out of his way to get, just for him. If Spike had been alive, he would swear his heart squeezed, just a little at the thought that Xander really meant everything he said.
“Just proves how much a poof I am,” Spike said out loud, They had spent most of last night talking, then shagging. ~know my Xanpet wanted it~ But for some strange reason Spike didn’t push for more then what he and Xander had done. “Bit of frottage, never ‘urt anyone, yeah?” Spike shimmied in the chair, and with one hand, he reached into his jeans and pulled out his smokes and Zippo. Idly, Spike wondered what he was going to do. It was hours before sunset, and he’d told Xander that he would see him two hours after sunset. “Give him time with Demon girl. Don’ needs him to feel pressure to tell,” he said aloud, lighting a cigarette.
Blowing out smoke, he got up and went to the bag. They had moved it sometime last night, to be closer to the mini fridge. Only going so far as to put most of the blood in the fridge, Spike picked up a bag of A pos, and debated on whether it was still worth having. “’Ell with it,” he said, and shifting into game face to eat, he scrunched his nose in distaste and tossed the empty bag toward the door of the crypt. “Need ta get me a bloody hot plate, I do,” he commented to himself, then with a shudder, he drained three more bags.
“Got me smokes, belly full, now some time fer Passions.” He said happily to himself. Popping in the first VHS tape, turned the TV on, then got settled in his recliner, “Hours to kill.” Within seconds, Spike was pulled into the world of Passions.
Spike had been so focused on the show, he never even felt or heard the Slayer walk into his crypt, let alone walk up behind him. Arms wrapped around him, from the back. “Spike?” Buffy’s voice whispered in his ear.
Spike jumped at the suddenness of sound and Buffy. “The ‘ell!” he exclaimed and tried to get out of her suddenly tight embrace. “Now, now Spike. I want to play, and you’re going to play with me.” She said in a very sickeningly sweet voice.
“The ‘ell, I am!” Spike snarled, brought his head forward and snapped it back, to connect with Buffy’s forehead. The suddenness of the move had Buffy loosening her grip on Spike. This gave him the chance to break free, and jump to the other side of the crypt. Eyes bleeding gold, a growl rumbling in his chest. “Get out of me crypt, you damned Bint!” His growl racketing up a notch, it took everything Spike had to keep his human face.
Buffy looked at Spike, a truly twisted smirk on her pretty face. “Ah, Spikey doesn’t want to play anymore.” She said as she stalked toward him, “But that’s too bad, ‘cos I want to play. So we are going to play.”
Before Spike could do anything, Buffy’s fist shot out and connected with Spike’s jaw, causing Spike to stumble back. There was more force behind her punch than he was used to. “Not your bloody punching bag, you barmy bint!” he cursed, dodging the next fist that came flying, then let lose a fury of kicks and punches. He couldn’t hurt her, he knew that. The Slayer was much stronger since they had brought her back, but he also needed her out of the crypt. ~or well, at least long enough fer me to make it to the tunnels~
Spike didn’t notice that he had dropped his human face, and was now fighting with the Demon fully in the front and Buffy was matching him fist for fist and kick for kick.
“Poor fangless Spike, not much of a Master Vampire, now are we?” Buffy taunted
Spike snapped his mouth shut, keeping the words in as he slammed his fist straight into her face. Buffy hadn’t been ready for it, so when it connected, she staggered back, eyes rolling to the back of her head and down she went. Spike stood there for all of a second, eyes flicking outside to see where the sun was, took three steps back and dropped down to the lower level. Grabbing a shirt from the floor, slipping his feet into his boots, and sliding his arms through the sleeves of his duster, he was ducking through the hidden entrance to the sewer tunnels and out of sight long before Buffy woke up.
The sun had just fallen past the horizon as Spike popped out of a sewer entrance, not far from the Magic Box. Shaking off the muck that clung to the bottom of the duster, he walked toward the street. “Bleeding ‘ell, you git. Just go, deal with it, later.” He mumbled to himself, and turned onto the street and right into Xander.