After Buffy and Spike's first dance, they both relaxed a bit and danced quite a few more, but once they got back to where Spike was staying, an awkward silence fell again. Spike finally broke it. "Uh, the bathroom is over here. You're welcome to use the shower if you want. Here's the kitchen; not much food in it, though. I guess you can still remember where the bedroom is. It's also the living room, in case you were wondering why I have the telly in there." A bizarre thought struck him and he grinned. "Can it still be called a living room if the person who uses it isn't alive?"
Buffy smiled. "Well, calling it an un-living room just doesn't sound quite as warm and cozy."
Spike looked at her with a mock-serious expression. "Ah yes, and the home of a vampire should by all means be warm and cozy." Buffy said nothing, but rolled her eyes. She walked in and sat down on the edge of the bed again. Spike came and sat beside her.
"So what now?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Dunno. Seems kind of cheap to just say let's go to bed."
She whacked him lightly on the chest. "I am not cheap! And if you lay a finger on me tonight, I swear I'll --"
"Now, now, not to worry, Sweet. Forcing unwilling women was never my gig," he reassured her. "Besides, if trust is the name of the game..."
"I see your point." Buffy said. Suddenly she looked up brightly. "Hey, want to fight?"
"What, like before?" Spike asked, stunned.
"No, not like before. I just meant, to pass the time. Not actually trying to kill each other, but just for fun."
"Oh, you like to fight, eh?" Spike teased.
"Well, with you, anyway," Buffy said. She blushed, and tried to recover. "I mean, um, you're just a good fighter, and um --"
"I got you," replied the amused vampire. "Right, I'll spar with you a little, but no stakes, hear?"
She nodded. "And no fangs!"
Spike struck first, a backhand across her face. Buffy recovered and punched him in the jaw, following with what was going to be a powerful kick to the stomach. Spike saw her foot come up and dodged it, tackling her to the floor. "And be careful with those bloody boots of yours!" he ground out between gritted teeth. "Last time you kicked me it took me a week to get the dent out of my head!"
Buffy laughed involuntarily, and he took advantage of her distraction by pinning her wrists to the floor in a classic wrestler's pose. "Give?" he asked.
Buffy struggled, but half-heartedly. She really was quite tired after all that dancing. "Give," she decided. He let her up and they dusted off their clothes. "So you like my boots?" she asked innocently.
"Naa. More like we've got a nodding acquaintance. Then again, it's hard not to nod a little when you've been kicked in the throat by those monstrosities."
"Um, Spike?" Buffy was slightly preoccupied. "How do you know I won't stake you tonight?"
"I don't," he told her honestly. "Just like you don't know that I won't suck you dry before morning."
Buffy inferred a threat in his words, and bristled. "Gonna be a long night, then, isn't it?"
Spike sighed. He hadn't meant that as a threat, but that pig headed slayer seemed determined to misunderstand! "Listen, slayer, I swear I won't try and kill you tonight. I'll swear it on anything you like."
"Really?" Buffy asked with a strange look on her face. She went to her bag and got out a pocket-sized copy of the Bible. Deliberately, she placed her hand on it and looked Spike in the eye as she said "I promise I won't try to kill you, Spike. As long as you don't harm me or anyone I care about, I won't harm you." With a sweet smile, she held out the Bible on the palm of her hand.
Spike's heart would have been pounding, if it still beat at all. He placed his hand firmly on the tiny book. He met her gaze evenly and repeated her words. "I will not try to kill you, slayer. If you don't harm me, I won't ever harm you." He ignored the searing pain caused by his skin being in contact with holy objects.
Buffy wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant scent of burned vampire flesh. She put the Bible away hurriedly. "I guess you must be telling the truth," she said, "I'm sorry, Spike. I didn't realize it would hurt you that much."
"Oh, I've had worse. Try having some slayer drop a church on you sometime." He put his injured hand in his pocket.
"That wasn't the entire church!" Buffy protested. "It was just the organ." She grabbed his hand, ignoring the hiss of pain he gave. "Oh, let me fix you up here." After some rummaging, she came back with some butter and one of his black t-shirts. She dressed his hand and bandaged it.
Then she yawned. "Busy day?" Spike asked. She nodded. He said, "Here's some clothes -- you didn't seem to have brought any. You can change in here if you like, just open the door when you're finished. Want some tea?"
"Sure. Oh, I need to call Giles, too. Where's your phone -- oh, here it is. Thanks." Spike left the room, trying desperately not to think about Buffy's taking off her clothes in his -- HIS bedroom. He overheard her cheery message to Giles' answering machine and grinned. At least she didn't sound worried anymore!
Buffy wondered at Giles' absense. She called him at home and left him a similar message to the one she'd left at the library. She undressed and put on the shirt he had left, then picked up the new, unopened package of boxers that were yellowed with age. She laughed to herself and opened the package and put them on. She opened the door. Spike stood there wearing only sweatpants, and holding a cup of tea.
"'Ere you go, luv," he said. He tried not to stare at her. He hadn't thought it would seem quite so astonishingly intimate, the fact that she was wearing his clothes and was in his bed. He'd seen her asleep several times before, but tonight his mind was filled with memories of a few nights ago, when he had fleetingly kissed her. He was tempted to do so again, but his promise stopped him. Swearing quietly to himself, he went in and lay down beside where she was sitting. "Don't know how I'll ever get to sleep tonight," he grumbled. "It's just about high noon, for me."
"What, are you saying I didn't wear you out enough?" Buffy asked.
He rolled to face her. "Are you volunteering to finish the job?"
"Is that a proposition?" Buffy asked.
"Only if you accept it," Spike told her solemnly. "If you don't, then it was just an invitation to spar again."
"I see. Well, attractive as that sounds, I'm not exactly dressed for it."
The blond vampire snorted. "Come on now, Pet. You've taken me down before, wearing a sodding ball gown! Which reminds me -- " Spike finally had the perfect opportunity to casually ask her a question he'd been dying to ask her for more than a year, "-- why didn't you kill me that night, on Halloween?"
Buffy shrugged. "I don't know, I guess I just liked fighting you too much. Killing you would have ended it too soon."
Spike gave her a knowing look. "Oh I see, you're the type who likes to make it last, eh?" He leered at her.
Buffy glared at him, "At least it's better than your way! All you want to do is get it over with quick, so you can go brag about it to your friends!"
"Naw, I wouldn't do that with you," he said in a low voice.
Buffy lowered her eyes. "I think I'll go take a shower." She left the room. As soon as Spike heard the water running, he took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag.
"That girl's going to be the death of me," he remarked quietly to the empty room, blowing out the smoke.
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