Forfeit: Part 1
by Samantha McCullah
Joss Whedon owns Buffy & Co. Which means I *don't* own them. I'm only playing and will return them when I'm done. I'm not making money off this, so don't sue.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part One
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Buffy tossed the duffle bag out her window and was rewarded with a muffled growl of "Watch it, Slayer," from Spike. They were trying to move Spike into his own apartment and out of Buffy's room without attracting the attention of Buffy's mom. Unfortunately, they weren't succeeding.
"Whoever's out there, I have a very large weapon!" Buffy heard her mom shout from the front porch.
"Spike!" Buffy hissed softly. Using a supernatural burst of strength and speed, the vampire managed to make it up the tree and into the relative safety of the branches before Joyce walked around the corner of the house. Spike glared at Buffy as her mom spotted her hanging out her window; she held her breath knowing her mom had seen him.
"Buffy, what are you doing?" she asked.
"Doing?" Buffy replied. "I'm doing...cleaning. Right, I'm cleaning the roof."
"Honey, it's past eleven. Don't you think it's a little late to be cleaning the roof?" Joyce commented, humoring her daughter.
"Right, I'm going to bed now. Here's me going to bed," she replied, letting out the breath she'd been holding. Joyce looked once more up at Buffy, then shook her head in confusion before walking back into the house. She waited until she heard the front door close before turning to Spike. "Could you possibly make a little more noise?"
"You're the one who hit me with that bag," he replied, sliding out of the branches and dropping to the ground. Buffy sighed softly while pulling herself out the window and grabbed a branch. She pivoted and landed with a plop on her back on the ground. Spike held out a hand and helped her to her feet.
"If you hadn't pulled that stunt with Xander we wouldn't be in this mess, now would we?" she replied, brushing herself off.
"That's right, Slayer, all your worldly problems are my fault," Spike replied.
"Good, glad you see things my way," she commented, picking up the duffel bag and heading towards the sidewalk. Spike sighed softly before letting a small smile play over his lips. he chuckled as he followed her. "So where's this apartment of yours?" she asked when he caught up to her.
"In the bad part of town. Right next to the cemetery," he replied, taking the duffel bag from her.
"Figures," she responded as Spike linked his fingers with hers. She looked over at him suspiciously; he glanced at her expectantly. She relaxed and let Spike hold her hand, and they walked the rest of the way to his place in comfortable silence.
"So, Slayer, what exactly did you tell dear Xander?" Spike asked as the neared his new apartment.
"I told him the truth. That you tripped and grabbed me for support, and we just sorta ended up on the bed," she replied.
"And he believed that?"
"Well, no, not exactly, but he accepted it," she replied as Spike let go of her hand to fish through the multitude of pockets in his trenchcoat for his key.
"Looking for these?" Buffy asked, a playful smile spreading over her lips as she held up Spike's keys.
"Not only the Chosen One but a pickpocket as well," he replied, snatching the keys out of her hand.
"Giles taught me to be stealthy."
"You've been around me too much," he commented, pushing open the door to his place. The apartment was lavishly decorated in black leather, red velvet, and white lace.
"Geez, Spike, who did your decorating? Gothic Martha Stewart?" Buffy asked, plopping down on the black leather couch.
"What did you expect? Pastels?" Spike retorted. She picked up one of the remotes on the table and pressed a random button. She looked up at the whir of machinery as the cabinet across from her revealed a full entertainment center.
"Wow," she muttered, pushing another button. Across the room, a panel in the wall turned to reveal a full bar. "Spike, how can you afford this place?"
"I never did tell you where I got my money, did I?" Buffy shook her head. "Let's just say, Angel's gonna get a surprise when he checks his bank account."
"You're stealing from Angel?"
"One-third of whatever he puts in filters into my account. The wonders of modern technology," he commented, laying down on the couch next to her. She continued to push buttons on the remote until she saw an extensive movie collection. She untangled herself from Spike and walked over to it.
She ran her finger over the titles until, shocked, she turned to face Spike. She cocked and eyebrow and held up the tape. "Dumb and Dumber?" she asked, choking back laughter.
"It was Dru's," Spike replied, a little too quickly. She continued to stare at him and swallow laughter. "It was funny, alright." She placed the tape back in its place and continued down the line, carefully ignoring the other Jim Carrey movies. Finally she settled on an old horror movie 'London After Midnight' starring Lon Chaney.
Spike held open his arms, and the Slayer settled back in his embrace as the movie started.
* * *
Two hours later, both were deeply unsatisfied with the movie; of course neither had seen much of it between make out sessions. The parts they did see were punctuated by Buffy's comment of "I could stake him," followed by Spike's "No vampire acts like that."
After the credits finally rolled, She pushed away from Spike and stretched; Spike pushed himself off the couch as well. She commented, "The credits were by far the best thing in that movie." She looked down at her watch. "Ugh, gotta go."
"Stay with me?" Spike offered, grabbing Buffy's hand and pulling her to him. "Sort of a house-warming party," he whispered before bringing his lips down to hers.
"Sorry, Spike, Mom wants to do the mother/daughter thing tomorrow. Tomorrow night, on the other hand...," she replied, as his lips found hers again. She tried to pull away and head for the door.
"At least let me walk you home," he offered, refusing to let her go. "With Angel out gunnin' for you again..." he trailed off as the all too familiar pain surfaced in her eyes.
"I'll be fine, I promise. I'll make a quick run of the cemetery, so I can tell Giles I patrolled, then I'll go home. Ten minutes tops," she replied, trying to reassure him. He reluctantly took his arms from around her waist.
"All right, but you do me one favor," he ordered as she headed for the door; when she turned to face him, he continued, "Call me when you get home?"
"I don't know your phone number," she replied.
"I'm in the book."
"Under what? Spike?"
"No, under William Addington."
"Addington?" Buffy whispered. "Is that you're real name?" Spike nodded.
"Now, go, Slayer, because if you stay one minute more, I'm not going to let you leave, your mother be damned." Buffy tossed Spike a smile over her shoulder as she left his apartment. "I love you," he muttered, too softly for her to hear.
* * *
"Hello!? Time to come out and play!" Buffy called out softly, hoping no one would take her up on the offer. She took a stake out of her arm sheath, tossed into the air, and caught it with one hand. She continued her toss and catch game as she traversed through the tombstones. "Guess no one's home," she muttered, putting the stake back in its sheath. Then her Slayer sense went wild; she knew who it was before she turned around. "Angel! Long time, no slay."
"Hello, lover. Glad you remembered me," he replied stepping out from behind a mausoleum. "I see Spikey couldn't make you forget me."
"Are we gonna fight, or did you just come here to catch up on old times?"
"Oh, we could fight, but that just doesn't appeal to me anymore."
"Really? So, you came here to tell me you've taken up sunbathing?"
"No, I came here to kill you." Angel stalked around Buffy, moving quietly. "You see, I've had a thought--"
"Is it lonely?" That earned her a glare before Angel resumed his diatribe.
"It seems that you're nothing more than a whore that shacks up with the first vampire that offers, so you're not worth the time it would take to fight you. Spike, however, has to pay for that incident in the mansion; I still have marks from where he hit me with that crowbar."
"I have to go to the bathroom. Are we done yet?"
Angel continued to ignore her, "So, I figure, I'll make him hurt by making you hurt." He pulled the crowbar out from his trenchcoat; he held it up and turned it around in his hand. Then he smirked over at Buffy. "The same crowbar he used on me. Poetic, isn't it?" he asked as he lifted the crowbar and swung it towards Buffy.
This story archived at: The Slayer\'s Fanfic Archive
The Slayer\\\\\\\\'s FanFic Archive - http://www.slayerfanfic.com/viewstory.php?sid=3057