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A/N- this is taking a long time to get to the NC-17 dammit. Why did Spike have to get morals? *whines* this was supposed to be a fairly short pwp, but it turned plotty, much to my chagrin. It will be coming though, don't worry. Chapter is unbeta'd.

Chapter 15

Buffy felt like a splayed specimen under a microscope, shifting uncomfortably under the unrelenting intensity of Spike's stare. He had managed to throw her off kilter once again within the span of a short bathroom trip.

He looked like Spike again. Gone were the leather pants, the chunky silver accessories; taking their place was the usual pair of tight, well worn, black jeans and smirking face. His Billy stage makeup that had caused little threat to his masculinity had been washed away, leaving a faint smudge of eyeliner under his eyes that should have looked out of place, yet merely seemed to add to his still hot gothic appeal.

Now that she was faced with this more familiar version of Spike, her edginess seemed to escalate. The gleaming, chiseled chest before her wasn't helping matters either, the temptation to reach out and explore those muscular planes and see exactly how tactile he was practically overwhelming.

Wrapping both hands around the can of soda to prevent an embarrassing touchy-feely exploration that she didn't think she was ready for, Buffy brought the diet coke to her lips and took a long swallow, the inside of her mouth suddenly dry and in need of being quenched.

Spike seemed bemused by her palpable nervousness and Buffy shot him a glare over the top of the can, watching as he crossed the room and obtained a t-shirt from the huge dresser. As he slipped the soft cotton garment over his head, Buffy found her eyes glued once more to the flesh on display, admiring the sinewy flexion his muscles took as he pulled the shirt down and absently tucked it into the waistband of his jeans.

Once his body was no longer readily available for her perusal, Buffy found herself better equipped to entertain the possibility of rational thought. "Red? You own a red t-shirt?"

His smirk was lazy and sultry. "Lot about me you don't know."

Buffy's sculpted brows rose in silent tribute to her agreement. "And there you go with the major understatements."

She got an cryptic look in lieu of a response, tensing with a sudden breathy anticipation as he suddenly stalked in her direction.

Except he didn't touch her, merely brushed right past her, choosing the lush leather couch to throw himself into. He was the very image of relaxed with his knees spread open obscenely as only males can get away with, and Buffy watched as Spike hooked his thumbs through the front belt loops so his crotch was effectively framed between his cupped hands.

Buffy found herself unable to pull her hungry eyes away from the artistic package in front of her then mentally berated herself. God, since when did she stare at guys crotches?

'Since you first saw Spike', her annoying little voice in her head told her.

Spike followed the focus of her gaze and a playful smile came out to play. He bucked his hips in her direction. "What do you say, Slayer? Want to come ride my pony?"

Buffy's eyes flew from his cupped package to his face. "Do I want to do WHAT?"

Spike had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing outright. He gestured in the direction of his crotch and leered at her. "You know, ride my pony." He lowered his voice so it was tainted with innuendo and lust. "Come on, pet. You KNOW you want to."

His laughter escaped in a sharp bark at Buffy's wide eyed look and the flush of color that erupted on the surface of her skin. He could hear her heart pumping away frantically in response to his bold innuendo and a small hint of guilt tried to worm its way into his conscience. A conscience he shouldn't possess but did. This Buffy was acting too much like the young girl she really was and something was trying to make him feel guilty about that.

Assuming a mocking pose, Spike regarded her. "I guess getting too close to the Big Bad Vampire scares you. Pity."

As expected, his words forced the little girl to retreat and brought the Slayer out. His Slayer.

"I kill your kind every night, Spike. I don't get scared at vampires." She looked suspiciously at his smiling face and scowled. "Especially you," she added petulantly.

Clapping his hand dramatically over his chest to ward off her weak verbal attack, Spike's smile widened. He loved looking at her like this, all fired up and pouty. With a sincerity that he was still surprised he possessed, he assured her, "I know you do pet, I'm just teasing. I'm a bad, rude man." He shrugged and tried to look unaffected. "Besides, I didn't bring you up here so you could jump my tight, hot body and have your wicked way with the Big Bad."

That comment failed to launch her in a fit of denial. And why was she disappointed?

"So why are we here?"

Spike patted the seat cushion next to him in a patronizing fashion and watched her as she lowered herself down, being careful not to touch him.

With a quick tug on her wrist he had her secured against his side, one arm wrapped tightly around her. She tensed momentarily, her eyes flashing into his yet found herself surrendering at the sound of Spike's subtle warning growl. Because sitting next to him on the couch?

It felt right. The hard length of his body against hers was comforting in a way she had never experienced, and she allowed herself to sink into him, once more ignoring the voice in her head that tried to tell how stupid she was being.

"You could have just asked, you know. Didn't have to be all Mr. Grabby Guy," she complained, determined to get the last word in.

Spike allowed her that one small victory, breathing in the heavenly scent of the girl that was tucked up against him; watching as she drew those spectacular legs under her in a misguided attempt to preserve her modesty from the short skirt she wore.

"So... uh... Why are we here?" Buffy finally asked as the silence extended a fraction too long.

"Thought that was obvious," he couldn't help but tease, studying her profile. Her face flushed crimson again and Spike slipped his index finger under her chin and brought it up so her eyes were locked on his own. "I was just teasing you again. I already told you pet, didn't bring you up here for sex."

What kind of an evil vampire was he anyway? Vampires didn't bring virginal Slayer to their rooms then tell them they weren't planning on seducing them. It was just WRONG. Sheesh. And again, why was she disappointed?

"Ok, then what was with the stealthy get-away?"

Spike shrugged and released her chin. "Wanted to talk to you, is all."

"Oh my god, did you get your soul returned?" Buffy suddenly blurted, the thought just striking her.

The indignant look Spike gave her was almost comical. "No, I don't bloody well have my soul! Don't want it either."

"Then why?" Buffy persisted, getting the uncomfortable feeling she was heading in way wiggy territory.

The look in his eyes as he turned to capture her gaze once more was gripping. Then he did that evil thing and turned the tables on her, leaving her brain scrambling for something profound to say.

"So why are you here, Slayer? Shouldn't you be trying to stake me? It's what you're supposed to do, you know?"

Buffy crumpled under the penetrating weight of the intensity he was firing her way. "I-I... don't know. Lame, huh? Some Slayer I turned out to be. Giles is going to be so proud."

Again with the intense stare with a dark look thrown in. "You are a bloody amazing slayer. The best I've seen, so don't go selling yourself short, pet."

"Then why?" Buffy cringed at the pleading quality to her voice but patience was never her strong point. "I need to understand what's happening here. Because this? Something is definitely up here because I don't just blindly follow vamps who've tried to kill me to their hotel rooms, you know. So why do I know I can trust you?"

Spike sighed heavily. "Something happened between us, s'all I know. I thought it might have been just me, but well... obviously not. Don't really know what it is, but it's real." He paused to consider his next words, giving a slight derisive shake of the head when his thoughts fell short. "You feel it too, don't you?"

Buffy couldn't keep her eyes from rolling. "Didn't I just say that? Would I be here if I didn't?"

A ghost of a smile played over Spike's full lips. "Nah, guess not. I tried to ignore it, you know. At least for a little while. Figured I'd give you some time to grow up a little, hoping it would just go away in the meantime."

"Wait..." Buffy's eyes widened at she realized the significance of his statement. "Are you trying to tell me... you were WAITING for me?"

"Isn't that what I just said?" he replied, mocking her earlier words. "What, you think I just all of a sudden saw you sitting there with with your da at my club and said to myself 'god damn, Spike. That's the Slayer there. Gee, I think I want her?' Sorry pet, didn't work that way."

Buffy bristled at the derisive tone in his voice than calmed herself. This WAS Spike after all, king of the sarcasm. "Ok, fine. I guess I just didn't really think about it through."

Her eyes suddenly widened and her pulse rate increased accordingly as the full weight of what Spike had just revealed struck her. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

He didn't respond, merely continued to regard her with his assessing gaze that managed to warm her and set her on edge at the same time. She continued to endure his silence, somehow knowing instinctively that he was searching for the right words to use. Buffy reflected back on an earlier comment he had made that there had been something else he wanted when Drusilla left him

Taking a deep breath, Buffy summoned up the courage to ask a question.

"You stayed in LA... because of me?"

Again with the silence but the quirk of his lips surprisingly told her the answer. Buffy drew in a slow breath and forgot to release it as she stared at a spot on the floor. The deja'vu of his club to the Bronze hadn't been in her head. "You made your club look like the Bronze?"

"Wanted it to remind me of you," Spike replied softly, and Buffy knew instinctively that she could do more damage to this proud creature sitting beside her with words at this moment than with any manner of weapon.

But mocking his admission was the last thing on her mind, and Buffy felt her heart officially become a pile of mush. She tried to remember when her feelings for Spike had changed, getting herself lost in a vivid maze of memories that involved turbulent fights to the death and not-so-subtle innuendo.

It took her a moment to realize Spike was talking again and she shook off the lingering tendrils of her reminiscing to attempt to figure what he was referring to. Then she got it.

The spell to restore Drusilla.

"Huh? Wait, repeat that," she requested, now giving Spike her full attention.

The look of annoyance he shot her was familiar. "Didn't mean to interrupt your wool-gathering. Was just saying that I think the spell I did for Drusilla had something to do with this."
tbc





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