A/N: Hey everybody! It's been awhile since I've written anything, so I'm hoping you'll like this one! The rating is legit, as always with me, so if smut's not your thing, I suggest turning away now, because this one is a bit porntastic. Have fun, and as always, leave me love, because it makes me happy! ~kitten
Buffy Summers was hungry. This usually didn't present much of a problem. But when you've forgotten to go to the grocery for two weeks because you were busy saving innocent people from evil hordes, being hungry was a problem. Buffy stood in front of the open refrigerator, gazing into its empty depths. She let the cool air wash over her and sighed loudly.
"Hungry, luv?" a voice from behind her asked. Buffy jumped and spun around, prepared to defend herself.
"God Spike!" she yelled. "Lurk much?"
"I was just comin' for a visit, pet," Spike said, smirking as he sat down at the counter.
"In the middle of the day? Isn't that a bit dangerous for you?" Buffy asked, leaning against the counter opposite him.
"I wanted to check on the Bit," Spike said honestly. "Halloween wasn't easy for anyone involved, but I wanted to make sure she was okay."
"Oh," Buffy said, surprised. Usually Spike's visits were to see her, not her little sister Dawn. "She's still at school."
"Yeah, I know," Spike said. "She should be home soon though, yeah?"
"Yeah," Buffy agreed. Her stomach growled loudly, and she turned back to the fridge. "Do you have any idea what I can make with ham, two eggs, tomato, cheese, and onion?"
"The only thing I can think of is an omelet, Slayer," Spike said, suddenly behind her. Buffy jumped a bit at his nearness.
"And how do I make that?" she muttered under her breath.
He sighed loudly. His arm brushed against her, reaching into the fridge, and she tried to ignore the tingles spreading quickly from his contact.
"What are you doing?" she asked as he pulled out what few ingredients were in the fridge and set them on the counter.
"I'm making you an omelet, because I don't trust you to do it and not burn down the house," Spike said, looking at her as if she were a child. "Now sit."
"I can cook for myself," Buffy grumbled, sitting down in the chair he had just vacated. Spike rummaged around her kitchen, grabbing a knife, pan, and cutting board. She watched, a little in awe, as he chopped the ingredients and set everything to cook on the stove. When it was finally finished, he slid the omelet onto a plate and handed it to her. Buffy dug in eagerly, moaning at the excellent flavors Spike had been able to make with her meager supplies. Spike smiled deeply at Buffy's obvious satisfaction in his cooking. He perched himself up on the counter, watching her closely.
"Buffy? Are you home?" Dawn's voice came from the front door. She walked into the kitchen, dropping her bag on the floor. With a quick grin at Spike she turned to her sister.
"Oh my god, Dawnie, you have to try this," Buffy said, offering a forkful to Dawn. The younger Summers took a tentative bite. She moaned and closed her eyes, savoring the taste.
"Oh my god, what is that?" she asked.
"Omelet," Spike said, shrugging.
"It's possibly the best thing I've ever had in my mouth," Buffy said. Spike grinned naughtily.
"Pity for Captain Cardboard," he said, leering at her. Buffy's mouth dropped open in surprise.
"Oh, that's not what I meant," she said. "I-I mean, it's still true, but not what I meant." Spike laughed loudly, nearly falling off the counter.
"Oh, god, gross mental picture," Dawn said, grimacing. Buffy smiled at her sister's reaction. Which is what you were going for, not trying to make Spike laugh, her brain tried to tell her.
"We'll have to rectify that, won't we, Slayer?" Spike asked suggestively, waggling his eyebrows.
"I'll settle for your cooking, thanks," Buffy said. "And by the way, how do you know how to do that? I mean, you don't have too much cause for cooking your meals, do you?"
"I get bored eating the same thing every day," Spike said by way of explanation.
"Yeah, I guess warmed-up pig's blood gets a bit monotonous, doesn't it?" Dawn asked, stealing another bite from Buffy. Her sister batted away her hand, all but inhaling the rest of her meal.
"Eh, I just miss the hunt, y'know?" Spike said. "The adrenaline, smell of fear, that sort of thing. It's delicious."
"I'm sure you meant disgusting," the youngest Summers said, wagging a finger at him. "And bad. And morally wrong. Humans are friends, not food."
"Right, that's exactly what I meant, Niblet." Spike rolled his eyes at her.
"Do you ever think of going hunting?" Buffy blurted, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Spike loved the fact that she wasn't so prissy as to have pretend manners around him.
"Whaddaya mean, luv? Every time I try to go hunting, the chip tells me not to by frying my brain."
"I mean, go out and hunt animals," Buffy said, shaking her head. "Deer, coyotes and stuff. I'm sure there's got to be a lot of decent animals in the wood outside town, or even out into the desert."
"Yeah, deserts and vampires are… what would you call them? Non-mixy things," Spike said. "What with the sun and the scorching heat and the turning-to-dust."
"That's why you go at night, brain trust," Buffy said, rolling her eyes at him.
"It's too far for me to get there and back before sun-up," Spike said.
"Look, I'll go with you," Buffy suggested. "We'll take the DeSoto."
"Can't." Dawn and Spike said at the same time. Buffy frowned and looked at her sister.
"Uh, 'cause, um, it doesn't so much exist anymore," Dawn said, blushing deeply.
"Why is that?"
"Cause Spike may or may not have been giving me a driving lesson, during the summer while you were…"
"Dead. Dawnie you can say it, I'm not going to freak out," Buffy reminded her gently.
"While you were gone," Dawn said. "And during said hypothetical lesson, I may or may not have wrecked it into a pole."
"And she may or may not have destroyed my poor car," Spike said, glaring playfully at Dawn.
"I said I was sorry!" Dawn cried, giving him her best puppy-dog eyes.
"Were you okay?"
"Yeah, just a couple of bumps and bruises," Dawn shrugged. "The car was the big thing hurt."
"Okay, so we take the motorcycle, and make sure we get back in time to crash at a motel along the way before you turn all dusty," Buffy said, turning back to Spike.
"You don't have to go with me," Spike said, quirking his head at her. "Why are you offering?"
"Cause you won't go if I don't make you," Buffy explained easily. "And it might be kind of interesting to watch."
"As long as you're learnin' somethin'," Spike grumbled.
"Oh, come on, it'll be fun," Buffy said. "Heaven forbid you actually enjoy yourself every once in awhile. You get any broodier and we're gonna start calling you An-"
"Finish that sentence, and chip be damned, I'll hurt you, girl," Spike growled.
"You have been of the bad-moody, Spike," Dawn said. "Go with Buffy. Have some fun. Eat a coyote for me." She flitted over to him, placed a big kiss on his cheek, and darted away again, grabbing her bag and heading for her room. Spike watched her go, frowning slightly.
"So, what do you say? Wanna go?" Buffy asked.
"Why do you want to go?" Spike asked. He thought that now that Dawn was gone, he might get a straight answer from her. Maybe. He hoped.
"You've done everything I've asked since I got back," she said, "no questions asked. And I'm not so great at saying thank-you. So I just thought- well, I'm not sure what I was thinking, really- but I just kinda figured you might have some fun, and I might have fun watching you."
"So, it ultimately boils down to you, huh?" he asked, smirking playfully at her.
"Yep, guess so. I want the vicarious fun of watching you try to catch a coyote," she said, smirking right back. She brightened visibly at a thought. "Ooh! It'll be like the roadrunner cartoon! Just promise me, if you see a box marked 'ACME', don't open it."
"Sure thing, pet," he said. "When do you want to leave?"
"I'll need to get some things together, so how about you meet me back here at sundown?" she asked.
"Sounds like a plan, luv," he said as she stood to walk out of the kitchen.
"Don't call me luv," she called over her shoulder.
"I'm gonna keep callin' you that till you like it, Slayer," he yelled back. Buffy smiled to herself as she climbed the stairs. Spike's smile mirrored hers unknowingly as he threw his trusty blanket over him and dashed to the sewer opening outside her house.
By the time the sun set, Buffy had packed an overnight bag and had arranged to borrow Xander's cell phone, just for emergencies. Since Willow lived in the Summers house, she didn't have to worry about leaving Dawn on her own for a day or two, but she still wanted to be able to be in contact. Now all she had to do was wait for Captain Peroxide to show.
A few minutes after the sun had set, Buffy heard the distinct sound of Spike's motorcycle outside her house. A second after that, a loud knock sounded on her front door. Controlling her own excitement –after all, how often do you get to see how a vampire hunts without being prey? - she sauntered over to the door and pulled it open.
"Sure, when I'm actually expecting you to be in my house, then you knock," she said, rolling her eyes at him. She looked him over. He was in his normal everyday uniform: black jeans, black t-shirt, long leather duster, and combat boots, with his bleach blonde hair slicked back.
"Whatever, Summers. You ready?" he asked. She nodded, and he handed her a small black bag, filled presumably with a fresh t-shirt and pair of jeans. She slipped it into her backpack and threw it over her shoulder.
"Let's go," she said, following him outside. "See you later, Dawnie!" she yelled over her shoulder. Spike led the way to his bike, but it wasn't the same bike she had ridden before.
"You bought a new bike?" she asked.
"If by 'bought' you mean 'borrowed without asking' then yes," he said, grinning down at her. His deep blue eyes danced in the light from the streetlamp, and Buffy had to mentally kick herself to remind her to frown in disappointment.
"So you stole a crotch rocket?" she asked, looking the bike over. "I figured you'd at least get something respectable."
"But this is fast, Slayer," he said with a quick grin. "And if we've got to get out to the desert and back to a motel before sunup-"
"Yeah, I get it," she said. "But if you kill me, so help me god, I'm haunting you."
"Shut up, Blondie, I wont kill you," he said with a roll of his eyes. He handed her a shiny black motorcycle helmet. "Wouldn't want that pretty face of yours to get smashed."
"I'm serious, don't wreck this," Buffy said. "Cause you're returning it when we get back into town."
"Aw, Mum," Spike whined childishly. He climbed onto the motorcycle, waiting for her to follow. She climbed on slowly after putting on the helmet, slipping her legs onto either side of his. She held on lightly to his hips, waiting for him to take off. Spike sighed loudly and reached around to grab her hands.
"You're gonna have to hold on, luv," he said huskily, wrapping her arms around his torso. Her chest pressed firmly to his back, and her hips were smashed against his ass. Not that she was complaining. I can totally have platonic feelings for him and still think he has an amazingly squeezable ass. And oh my god! His abs are amazing.
Without warning, or without her hearing the warning, Spike took off, flying down the road from her house. Buffy squealed and closed her eyes in shock initially, but eventually opened them to watch the road. Spike zipped through town to the outskirts in record time and took off for the desert. After awhile, she let herself relax, and damn him, she was actually enjoying driving this fast. She felt like she was flying, and the only thing holding her down was the pressure of Spike's back against her chest.
It was dark, and the only things Buffy could hear were the roar of the wind rushing past and the comforting purr of the motorcycle. But she could have sworn she heard Spike singing softly to himself. She tried to edge closer to his face so she could hear him, but the cumbersome helmet prevented it. It didn't, however, prevent her from pressing her body even closer to his. She'd never admit it, but she felt… safe, almost, when she was around him. Maybe it has something to do with that whole "Every night I saved you" thing. God, that was cute. No! Not cute! Nice. It was nice, in a friends-only thing. Not even friends; we're enemies who don't kill each other. God, Summers, get a hold of yourself, woman!
God, did she even know the things she was doing to him? The feeling of her tight little body pressed against him was driving him absolutely mad. The heat of her alone… he hadn't felt this warm in a very long time, and he loved it. Loved her, but that was beside the point. He wasn't going to remind her of that on this trip. That wasn't what it was about. She was trying to be friends, and for some reason she wanted to go out to the desert with him. He wasn't going to be complaining any time soon. He rounded another corner, making her hold round his chest tighten. He grinned broadly, silently begging whatever gods existed to let her hold onto him just awhile longer. But as he pulled out of the turn, her arms loosened. He went back to singing the lullaby he- William, he corrected- had written. When he was singing it before, he could have sworn she got closer to him.
The night wore on, and they got deeper into the desert when suddenly Spike slowed the bike and pulled over. He waited for Buffy to disentangle herself from his body and climb off before joining her. She pulled off her helmet and looked to him for explanation.
"This looks as good a place as any, yeah?" he asked, trying not to stare as she shook out her golden mane. She was just so heartbreakingly beautiful.
"Sure," Buffy agreed. She dropped her back by the bike and set the helmet atop it. "So do you want me to go with you or hang here by the bike?"
"How about you come with me till I get a scent of somethin', then come back here?"
"Works for me," Buffy said. She knelt down briefly by her bag, drawing something from it. It was a small dagger, which she tucked into the waistband of her jeans with a sheepish grin.
"You never know," she said, looking up at him. He grinned back at her, cocking his head in that adorable way of his.
"Right," he said, lifting his head to smell the breeze. "Let's go hunting."