Repairing the conference room table had been easy; in fact, Beth hadn't even had to worry about it. She'd walked into the room after her shower, and the table was already fixed. Chalk it up to one more of the one thousand and twelve weird things going on with the building.
It was pointless trying to get any mental work done in there; every time she sat down at the table, she ran her fingers over the tabletop, remembered what she'd done on the table with someone who wasn't Angel.
She couldn't even do her workout in the room because of that; every time she put her headphones in Beth jerked them right back out again because it made her entirely too jumpy not being able to hear if Spike decided to sneak up on her again.
Beth was concentrating so hard on not being snuck up on that the polite knock to the closed door had her jumping out of her seat. "What!? I mean, come in."
Angel peeked around the door frame. "Uh, am I interrupting something?"
Beth grinned, and closed her books. "No, c'mon in. I mean it. I was just… trying to study Giles' demon indexes and I ended up daydreaming."
Angel came into the conference room. "Oh, you got the table fixed. I haven't seen Spike, but, uh, if you want… I'll have a talk with him about breaking in here."
Beth prayed she wasn't flushing. "No, it's okay. I'll talk to him myself. If by talk you mean pummel until he bleeds."
"I actually meant, talk as in talk with words. But pummeling is okay too." He gave her half a smile. "I actually came to ask a favor."
"Sure thing; what's up?"
Angel passed over the folder in his hands. "We've been getting a lot of reports of Ahmantz in the area, and--"
"I'm the resident expert. Give." She held her hand out for the file. "I'll go hunt it now, but it likes populated areas; I can find it but I won't be able to go after it until nightfall at least, when people start to clear the hell out of wherever this thing is hanging around at."
"That's part two of the favor," Angel admitted, handing the file over. "We need you to flush it towards the sewer. Once it hits the tunnels, I can take care of it."
"Sure, if you like being a crispy critter," Beth pointed out, leafing through the report pages. "Also, tell whomever your clerk-typist is in the steno pool that it's a Z, not an S, and it only goes after humans so vampires are no good."
"I can run a flamethrower, you know."
"And the Ahmantz throws fire back at you, Angel. And while it might singe my hair or burn my clothes off, I'm not going to go poof in a pile of ash and dust from being burned to death. I'll push it to the sewers, no problem, but you need someone human who can handle a flamethrower or a vampire that you don't mind losing."
"Oh, that's easy. I'll send Spike to meet you, then."
-----
Like my life isn't already difficult enough as it is. Beth shouldered the canvas messenger bag that hid her weapons, and the state of the art taser resembled a cell phone. The small radio earwig in her ear picked up sound as well as conveyed it, and Spike was laughing in her ear.
"C'mon, love, you know you were just dyin' to kill something."
Beth sighed, and tried to appear as if she was talking on her cell phone's earpiece, and not just into thin air. "Of course I was, but this also wasn't what I had in mind. Where the hell are you?"
"Pretty much five stories under your little tootsies," he cackled. "Where's the bait?"
She gritted her teeth. "They're Slayers, not bait, and they're helping me look, far far away from where this thing actually is because I'm not in the mood to get them killed. It was Angel's big idea to send along help, I told him not to bother."
"Right, because we don't want the little girls gettin' in our way."
"There is no our way, just my way," she hissed, and then stopped in her tracks. "Okay, get to the grate; I see it. It's ripping apart a hot dog stand, and everybody's fled." Pumping the slide on the Mossberg, Beth fired over its head to get its attention. "Z'ch akh tochaka loo!"
The demon screamed, and Beth winced at the feedback. "Fuck you too, demon bastard!" she shouted. The taser gun was useless, and Beth dropped it in her bag as she pulled out a canister
"Don't know what you said, but I could hear that thing scream all the way down here, ducks." There was a grating pause. "What's in these tanks, anyway?"
"I called him spawn of motherless human; it doesn't really translate into English. The tanks are a kind of mystical napalm that Angel got his hands on, because it's specially made to boil the blood of the Ahmantz in its skin, which kills it a lot easier than frying it from the outside in. You ready?"
"Uh… I'm sorry I asked. But yeah, I'm ready whenever you bring big ugly this way. By the way, how'd you learn to speak that?"
Beth thought she could detect a bit of admiration in Spike's voice. "You fight the things long enough, you pick up a little vocabulary here and there. Tabby's got a book she gave me, and I taught myself out of." She fired at the demon again, and then slung the strap over her shoulder. "Oh, fuck this. Tochaka loo!" she bellowed again, stalking towards it empty handed. "Got something for you!"
The demon hurled the demolished cart at Beth, and she rolled out of the way. "Spike! We're about to be coming your way, and I'm gonna lead it in so try not to fry my ass."
"Only if you promise I can do other things to it," came the reply. "But bring it on, I'm ready."
"You're a disgusting pervert is what you are." Digging in the bag, she came out with her two favorite tools; a grill lighter and a can of hair spray. Flicking the flame on, Beth sprayed a burst of fire at the demon. "Let's dance, ugly."
The Ahmantz fell back several steps, ducking the steady stream of fire as it roared angrily. The other Slayers, having heard the demon screaming, had come running towards the fight. As soon as they saw what Beth was doing, the both of them did the same thing with their cans of hairspray, and the semi-circle of Slayers started pushing the demon back towards the sewer grate.
Beth cocked her head just a little bit. "Spike, heads up. We're coming in at you, should be straight on your twelve."
"Speak English, love."
"Right in your face, dumbass," she translated. "You should be seeing his shadow pretty soon, and we need the grate open before he gets there."
"That's all you had to say. I'll get the grate, and then we can fry this thing?"
"Yeah, the girls are helping me push it towards you, so be on the lookout for all of us. We'll hit the dirt as soon as he's in, but that means you're gonna have to grab him fast with the napalm," Beth said, making sure the other two Slayers heard the plan as well.
"I got it, I got it."
Beth grinned, because Spike was sounding irritated as hell and that amused her. Usually it was the other way around. "Okay, going silent… now."
"Got your back, Bethie, don't worry," was Spike's less-than-reassuring sign-off.
She had to give the vampire credit; she hadn't expected the grate to be open, but Spike had done it. They were being quiet, concentrating on getting the damned demon underground, so Beth hoped the Slayers were smart enough to follow her lead. She moved in closer, shortening the distance between her and the Ahmantz while staying just outside of its claw-reach.
The other Slayers closed in around it, tightening the perimeter and pushing it into the sewer tunnel. Thank God these girls were smart, because-- "DOWN!"
The gout of flame from Spike's flamethrower was longer, and hotter, than she'd expected, because she'd never experimented with the napalm. "Goddammit, Spike!"
"Sorry 'bout that, this thing's not a piece of cake to work, you know!" came the shouted answer.
"Son of a bitch!" They were still out in the open, and Beth threw caution to the wind and charged it. She didn't realize the strength of her own kicks, and the demon went sailing back into the tunnel. "Out of here, now!" she yelled at the Slayers, rolling in the grass to put out the smoldering in her clothes. "Back to the Pod, and make sure there's fresh bandages and blood, go!"
Really, she should've gone with them, and let Spike fry. That thought crossed her mind, more than once, as she got back to her feet and surged inside the grate. Her boots splashed as she ran forward, and found Spike and the demon grappling. It was boiling all right, from the inside out, but it'd managed to knock the flame-thrower away from Spike, and he was starting to smoke.
"Get your hands off my buddy," Beth roared angrily, swinging her shotgun around. Instead of firing, she used it as a blunt object, hammering the Ahmantz until its grip loosened. Spike went tumbling back with a splash, and Beth gave the demon one more clobber to the head before it fell back in the opposite direction, still burning from the mystical fire. "That's right, burn, you son of a bitch, burn."
"You kiss your auntie with that mouth?" Spike was coughing and spluttering, slapping out the last few flames that threatened to flare up on his clothing. "Nice timing, pet. Thought for sure you were gonna let me fry."
"The thought crossed my mind," she admitted, holding her hand out. After a moment Spike took it, and she pulled him up to his feet. "How you doing?"
"Bit crispy round the edges, but I'm good." He brushed something dark and clinging off his jacket. "Wonderful. I'm covered in demon guts again. Forgot how thrillin' that is."
"Let me see." Beth looked at his hands, the side of his face, even the little bit of hair that had been charred by the fire. "You're gonna need some first aid."
Spike yanked his hand away. "Been hurt a hell of a lot worse than this in a bar fight, I'll survive it."
"Shut up, you big baby, and let me see." She winced. "You managed to take it worse than I did; how'd that happen?"
Spike just glared. "I don't know, must've happened when the big demon on fire whacked me in the head with his flaming forearm. Everything went to blazes after that, and I mean that literally."
"Looks like your jacket got the worst of it; lucky you had it on." Beth ran her fingers over his face, checking out the burns. "These should clear up in a couple of days, and you'll be back to your normal self."
"It's like Superman's bloody cape," he groused. "Always takes the worst of the damage."
Beth had to giggle. "Don't go tugging on Superman's cape, big dog."
Spike just rolled his eyes. "Not you too. Bloody Americans and your sodding superheroes." A beat. "We done here?"
"Well, yeah, we are. I don't think Angel's into dragging corpses back into the Pod as trophies, but if you want a crispy-fried proof of death, be my guest." Beth motioned towards the dead and smoking demon.
"No. I mean, are we done bein' all civil and the like, and can we get out of here?" He twitched away from her careful examinations.
"Oh." Beth let him pull away. "Sorry I was concerned, then."
"Please! Come off it, Bethie. We're not… this." He waved his hand around, indicating the two of them. "This isn't us."
"I really hate it when you call me Bethie," she said calmly. "And yes, I actually am concerned about you, you did almost just get flamed to death. I already sent the girls back, in fact, to make sure they've got first aid and blood on standby for when we get you back."
"You goin' to kiss my boo-boos and make them better?" he sneered, letting his jacket sleeve fall over the burns on his hand and wrist.
"If that's what it takes, sure," she said with a shrug. "You haven't been driving me crazy lately, I figure if I reward that behavior, you'll keep on not driving me crazy."
"A reward? That's what this is, eh?" A disbelieving laugh. "You really are a piece of work, Slayer."
"All because you don't believe I'm actually concerned?" Beth asked, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling. "You think I actually like being concerned about you? Yeah, the thought crossed my mind that you'd be a nice addition to crematorium's urn, but you know, I'm over it. I don't want you dead, Spike, if I did I wouldn't have tried to help you. So you know what? Find your own way back to the building and bind your own damn wounds."
"Way I like it anyway!" he shouted, watching her stalk out into the sunshine. Then he turned and kicked the sewer tunnel wall, cursing roundly as he headed back to the Pod.
-----
It was kind of hard for Beth to convince herself to dislike someone she'd had sex with. But Spike was trying very hard to make her do just that.
Truth be told, she really did want to dislike him. But she couldn't quite. He'd kind of proven that he could be trusted, he certainly had gone to the mat fighting the Ahmantz, and when they'd been in bed together before, he'd seemed a lot less crude and more… nice. Charming, even. He hadn't even told Angel what they'd done and she wasn't even worried anymore that he would. It was their little secret.
None of which explained why Spike had been acting like a complete horse's ass down in the tunnels. For that matter, it also didn't explain why Beth was suddenly feeling so charitable towards him. The urge to kill him had shrunk to almost nothing, the urge to do violent things had shrunk to absolutely nothing, and God help her, she'd actually wanted to make sure he was okay after the Ahmantz had attacked.
"I'm losing my mind. That's the only answer I can come up with. They've finally done it. Those two vampires have finally driven me up a goddamn wall." Beth was pacing back and forth in her "office" while she ranted to herself.
"Uh, if I'm one of the vampires in question, I have to plead innocence because I actually haven't done anything this time." Angel stood just inside the door. "How'd it go? I saw the Slayers come back alone and then you and Spike got separated… I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Beth smiled warmly up at Angel. "I'm fine, big guy. Burn-free and everything." She didn't see the need to mention the minor singes she'd already trimmed off. Her urge was actually to go to him for a hug, but she restrained herself, even though it looked as if Angel was fighting the same urge. "Spike wasn't quite so lucky."
"Yeah, I heard. Too bad." Too bad you got there in time, Angel thought to himself, but he didn't say it aloud. "I'm going to see him next but you were my first stop."
The fact that she was Angel's first concern made her feel warm inside, and she reached out for his hand. "Thank you," she said quietly, giving it a squeeze. "That actually means a lot to me."
Angel made sure their fingers were laced together for a brief moment. "Of course I'm gonna be worried about my favorite girl."
My favorite girl. Beth's smile threatened to envelop her entire head, and she turned the full force of her grin on Angel. But before she could speak, he pulled away. "Angel?"
"I have to go. Do things." He dropped Beth's hand. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"Yeah, okay. Later." Beth shook her head as he walked out. "And you wonder why I'd think you were out to make me crazy," she muttered under her breath.
Angel stiffened as he paused at the door, but didn't speak. After a millisecond, he kept walking.
Beth flushed at that, having forgotten how acute Angel's hearing was. "I'm sorry," she called after him, but Angel didn't turn around. As soon as he'd disappeared onto the elevator, Beth indulged herself in a nice, loud scream.
Frustration overwhelmed her, and Bet started whaling away at the wall. After only a few punches, the wall was starting to dent and show red smudges and smears from Beth's knuckles.
"That's good blood you're wastin' there," Spike observed from the doorway. "Lots o'energy too."
Beth stopped as soon as she heard Spike's voice. "What do you want?"
Spike grinned as he leaned against the doorjamb. "A few quid in my pocket, the keys to Daddy's Viper, and the love of a good woman. Barrin' all that though? A drink."
Beth grimaced. "Got nothing to drink in here, Spike. Incidentally, who the hell are you and where is the asshole who was being a dick to me down in the sewers before?"
Spike ignored the question. "How's your hand?"
Beth waved it experimentally, making a fist and wincing. "It's fine, I'll wash it off later."
"Let me see," Spike demanded, holding his hand out until Beth gave in and held both of hers out. "Left's fine, but your right hand's gonna look like hamburger in the morning." He lifted her hand and kissed it gently. "That better?"
"Mmm. I mean, yeah, it is," she said after a moment. "Spike… let's go. You want a drink and my hotel has a bar."
"Oooh, girlie's takin' me back to her hotel room."
Beth snorted. "I am not taking you to my room. I'm buying you a drink. And then you can tell me what brought on the sudden personality 180."
"Only if you buy off the top shelf," Spike answered, holding the door open by leaning on it.
"I always buy top shelf," Beth retorted, squeezing past Spike to get out the door. "You have keys?"
Spike reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out keys. "Keys to Daddy's Viper, just like I said."
"Y'know, most Slayers don't drink and the ones that do can't hold it," Spike commented. "Kinda surprised that you do."
Beth smiled as Spike refilled both their shot glasses. "I was drinking long before I got called as a Slayer," she pointed out. "Tabitha showed me all the good places to find information, and nine times outta ten?" She flicked her wrist around, encompassing their surroundings. "Bars. Get a few drinks in someone and they suddenly feel more comfortable yapping about the weird-ass stuff they wouldn't admit to sober."
"Never quite thought of it that way," Spike admitted, downing his shot in a single gulp. "That's pretty savvy."
"Savvy," she giggled. "You sound like a pirate, like Johnny Depp, all savvy." She did her best to imitate Spike's accent.
Spike rolled his eyes. "I think it's time to cut the Slayer off," he said, moving the glasses out of the way. "Tell me somethin', Bethie?"
"Sure thing." She waved their bartender over. "Uh, club soda, please, with a lime?" Beth transferred her attention back to Spike. "What you wanna know?"
He tested the waters. "You mean what you said to the demon? You called me your friend, you know."
"I did?" Beth took the club soda when it was handed to her, and picked up a swizzle stick from the cup on the bar to swirl with. "Huh. Yeah. Guess I did mean it. I don't want to kill you anymore. Hell, I haven't even thought about beating the crap outta you for awhile now."
Spike was amused. "That's all you base your friendships on?"
Beth sucked the tip of the swizzle stick clean. "Well, no, not always, but in this case it is. I mean, I wanted to murder you in your bed and use your head for a basketball, but then you were nice to me. Not to mention our meeting in the conference room." She giggled, more than a little tipsy. "I found out I could trust you, which I really didn't expect."
Well, that was an effective segue. "That was the test question. Here's the real question, love; did you tell that great pouf what we did together?"
Beth nearly spit her drink out. "Hell no he doesn't know. He thinks it was you and someone else who broke into my room and fucked on my table." She leaned towards Spike as if she were about to impart a great secret. "He even left me a message on my cell," she whispered. "Like, that very afternoon, while I was on the way to the shower, he called me and told me you'd been in there and broke the table." A deep breath. "It's our little secret."
Spike smiled at that. Beth's conscience apparently hadn't eaten her enough to make her come clean, and he was pleased. He decided to keep asking questions as long as she'd answer. "So what made you go all Mike Tyson on the wall earlier?"
"Angel," she confided. "He came by to make sure I was all right after the Ahmantz, called me his favorite girl, even held my hand." She made a rude noise. "And then he dropped me like a bloody hot potato when--what?"
Spike had nearly strangled on his liquor when he heard his slang pop out of little Bethie. "Nothing, nothing, go on," he said weakly, laughing.
"Anyway, he dropped me like I was a cross and he couldn't run out fast enough. I mumbled something under my breath about him being half the reason I was going out of my mind, and he did that thing he does where he stiffens up like someone shoved a flagpole up his ass, but he just stalked off."
Spike's eyes widened. Apparently Beth's sense of humor got sharpened by alcohol, and he filed that away for later consideration and possible exploitation. "A flagpole, eh?"
"Corncob's too short," she shot back, and sipped her club soda.
"I think it's time we take you up to your room and get you into the shower before you throw up on me."
Beth just grinned. "Don't forget the bottle."
-----
Room 212 was exactly the same as every other room in the hotel, but Spike could tell immediately who it belonged to.
Mostly due to the guns sitting out on the dresser and the one by the bed, or it might've been the clothes tossed over the small eating table instead of put properly away, but the biggest cue was pink fuzzy teddy bear sitting on the pillow at the head of her bed. "One of these things is not like the others," Spike muttered to himself.
"That'd be Fuzzik," Beth admitted. "He's my boy through thick and thin."
Spike steered the tipsy Slayer towards the bathroom. "You need to shower before you throw up, and maybe consider some coffee. And the fact that a vampire can always drink you under the table because it takes a lot more to get us drunk than you."
Beth's hand appeared around the cracked bathroom door, middle finger extended.
"Brilliant comeback, love."
A second middle finger appeared to join the first, and then Beth slammed the bathroom door closed.
-----
Beth stepped out of the hot shower about twenty minutes later. At first she'd gotten into the shower with all her clothes on and just let the cold water soak her to the bone, but once she was relatively clear-headed, she'd turned the shower to hot, thrown her wet clothes into the corner hamper for later laundering, and got back in.
Fifteen minutes later she emerged from the shower, and used one of the hotel's flimsy towels to wrap her hair up in. Whistling to herself, she pulled the bathroom door open, and sighed at the gust of steam that followed her out. It clouded the bathroom mirror, but she didn't need it as she ran a small cup of cold water, then dipped her toothbrush in it.
"It's about bloody time; I thought you'd gone and drowned yourself in there or something."
Beth nearly jumped out of her skin as she spun around, toothpaste falling off the brush and splotching on the carpet. "Jesus Christ, Spike!"
Spike just snickered. "Didn't mean to scare you."
"I'd just forgotten. What the hell are you still doing here?" She used one of the hand towels to scrub up the spilled toothpaste, and then turned back to the mirror. She wiped it clear of the steam, and then scowled as the mirror didn't reveal her visitor. "You really need to wear a bell or something. Don't suppose you did something useful, like go for coffee while I was in the shower?" Beth refilled her toothbrush, then stuck it in her mouth.
"Nope. Did go through your drawers, though. Played with your guns too, and really, I'm kind of curious to know why you sleep with one under your pillow." He smirked as he watched her naked body in the mirror. "You always run around your room naked?"
Beth turned around to glare at him, toothbrush hanging out of the corner of her mouth. "Not like you haven't seen it," she said, spitting the foam out into the sink and going back to finish brushing.
"Oh, that's attractive," Spike snorted. "Decent enough bed, which makes me wonder, why the hell you stay here when there's a condo for you at the Pod."
Beth finished brushing her teeth, then rinsed the sink out. She felt better now that she was clean, marginally sober, and her tongue no longer felt like it was covered in shag carpeting. "I like it here. It's quiet. Nobody's on top of me, nobody's bothering me--"
"You don't have to deal with Angel all the time--"
"And I have my own space," she finished, ignoring Spike's butt-in. "Plus, it's not like I made it a secret where I'm at. Anyone wants to find me, they can." She shrugged. "Nobody bothers me here."
"Except me," Spike pointed out. "I'm here now, I'm bothering you."
Beth leaned against the sink, arms crossed over her chest. "No you're not. Not yet, anyway, although I imagine if you tried hard you could be a pain in my ass." She pulled the turban-wrapped towel off her head and started rubbing her hair dry. "Make yourself useful and start the coffeepot."
"Oh, I'll make myself useful all right." Spike got up from the bed, but instead of fiddling with the little coffeemaker by the microwave, he went to Beth and pulled the towel out of her hands. Instead of drying her hair, he turned her around and started drying her back.
Beth didn't protest, just turned so he could reach and leaned against the sink. "I hate to admit it, but that feels nice," she murmured, feeling the steady rub of his hands against her skin.
Spike didn't say a word, just moved the damp towel off, tossing it into the bathroom and pulling a dry one off the rack. He started at her hips, then ran his hand down the back of her thigh and stopped at the knee before drying the other leg in the reverse.
He couldn't see himself in the mirror, but he could see Beth's face, eyes closed and head tilted back. Instead of sliding the towel up to her neck, he kissed away the water droplets, his tongue licking along the arch of her throat. The towel dragged over her stomach, Spike's fingertips guiding it between her breasts, then under the curve of each one before gently brushing the tops and nipples, which crinkled under his touch.
Beth moaned softly, her still-damp hair hanging over her shoulder. Spike moved it carefully, wringing all the water out of the ponytail before drying it off and letting it fall loose down her back. He kissed the other side of her neck clean, and he dropped the towel entirely.
She turned to kiss him, but Spike caught her before she could. "No," he murmured into her ear. "I want you to see," he said, dragging his fingertips over the mirror that showed only her. "I want you to see what I do to you, every bit of it, how I make you feel, what you look like when I'm shagging you because I want you to remember it." He slammed his hand flat against the glass, surprised it didn't break. "Every time you're with Angel, I want you to remember your face when I'm ridin' you hard, every time you think about bein' his favorite girl, I want you to see what you look like when you're my girl." He bit hard on her ear, enough to make her squeak. "Nothing in the mirror but you, love, and you can't lie to yourself like that."
Beth shuddered at Spike's half-angry words, and her hands came down to brace on the edge of the sink. She didn't want to look; she didn't want to watch. "I don't want to," she whispered, leaning her head back to rest it against Spike's shoulder. "Please."
Spike's mouth pressed against her ear. "I know. But do it for me anyway." His hands slid over her stomach, down her hips and over her ass. "Do it for Spike?"
Her nod came quickly, and she made herself open her eyes and meet her reflection's stare. "For you, Spike."
He pressed his mouth against her skin, letting her feel the curve of his answering smile. "Won't do you wrong."
"I know you won't." Her fingers tightened on the edge of the sink. "Spike, stop. Let me… I gotta say this, and if I'm staring in the mirror, it's not gonna work." She turned just enough in the small space between him and the sink that she was looking at him. "I don't know how you make me feel like this, but here, right here, in this space, in this moment, I can't for the life of me figure out why I hated you so much." She stroked her fingertips over his cheek, over the scar in his brow. "Whenever I feel like…" Beth took a deep breath. "Whenever I feel--no." She shook her head. "Whenever Angel's made me feel like I'm not good enough, or that he doesn't want me, you always seem to know and make it better. You always know how to make me feel… good. Like a woman, I guess. Like I'm pretty, and smart, and desirable. Thank you." She kissed him gently, softly on the lips, then quickly turned back around so that she was facing herself in the otherwise empty mirror.
Spike's hands tightened on her shoulders, nails almost drawing blood. "I don't do anythin' but show up at the right time and take advantage of you," he murmured into her skin. "But if you want t'give me all that credit, I'll take it."
"I want to," she answered, her hands letting go of the sink and sliding backwards. Her fingers slid through the belt loops of his jeans, and she pulled him a little closer in.
Spike moved when he felt Beth pulling him in, his fully clothed body pressed against hers. "Now this isn't fair. One of us is a bit overdressed for the occasion."
"Don't tell me you've never done it like this," she murmured, keeping her fingers in his belt loops. "Up against a wall or even over a table, just drop the zipper and ride 'em hard and fast?" She purred softly, rubbing her backside against his groin.
Spike groaned deep in his throat. "Done pretty much everythin' before, even done that before, but you sure?" His hands slid off her hips and up to her stomach, cradling her breasts in his hands as cold fingers squeezed and kneaded in response to her rubbing against him.
Beth nodded. "I'm sure." She shivered slightly at the touches, eyes on her own reflection as she watched her face flush and her nipples harden further. "I like the feeling."
"What feelin' is that, love?" Spike let his teeth nibble delicately along her jaw. Beth's flush deepened, and Spike could feel the heat radiating off her face against his skin. "Don't get shy on me now. You can tell me anything."
Beth's teeth caught her lower lip and she chewed it for a moment, deciding if she could actually vocalize the words that were causing her to flush down into her neck and chest. "Just the feeling," is all she could stammer out. "Please."
Spike could've pushed and prodded, but he knew it wasn't the time. "Long as you're sure," is all he said, because on a very basic level, it made him feel sinfully powerful to know that he was a conscious choice, invited in and welcomed instead of pressured and coerced. One hand unzipped his jeans, stroking himself lazily as his knee pressed firmly against her thighs in a silent command to open.
Eyes falling shut, Beth moved as Spike's knee spread her legs open, and she shivered as the cool air of the room rushed over her skin. Goosebumps prickled everywhere, and she instinctively pressed back against Spike, seeking warmth even though he had none to give.
The involuntary press back made Spike groan as her naked skin slid against his cock. His fingers pushed insistently into the wetness between her legs, pressing his face into her hair and breathing deeply. It smelled like cheap shampoo and clean girl, nothing like sweat and blood and all the other things Slayers should've smelled like.
There was enough heat inside her for the both of them, and Spike felt boiled alive as he touched her. He could smell her, the sweat waiting to pop out on her skin, the heavy musk of her wetness thick in his nose. "Watch yourself, love," he murmured, moving one hand into her hair and yanking her head forward to make her look into the mirror.
Beth groaned as Spike's fingers gripped her hair, and she shuddered. She made herself open her eyes just as the head of Spike's cock slid into her. Her mouth fell open, moaning softly as she saw her skin flush, felt herself prickling into goosebumps again. Her head was just slightly arched, and she could feel Spike kissing her skin but she couldn't see it. All she could see was herself, back arching as Spike filled her completely.
Spike used his grip on Beth's hair to push her forward, bend her over just enough so that every thrust of his hips drove his cock in to the hilt. His eyes were on hers in the mirror, watched her tongue snake out and lick her lips.
She surged back against him, panting softly for each breath as Spike rocked into her. Her hands had returned to the edge of the sink. Her fingers dug into the wood and Formica, leaving dents as she met every thrust of Spike's cock with a push of her own. And she watched herself in the mirror as she started to sweat, as the slickness on her skin picked up the lights in the room, felt the chafing of Spike's clothes against her naked skin. "I want to kiss you."
Spike growled, lifting Beth and stepping back long enough to sit her on the counter's edge. Her legs slid around his waist, feeling oddly comfortable there as his cock slid back inside her wetness. "Guess you're my girl now," he snarled, fingers still in her hair as he pulled her in for a kiss.
Beth met his mouth eagerly, arms going around his neck. Her fingertips slid inside the neckline of his t-shirt, teasing the ends of his hair as her tongue hungrily met his. She couldn't stop the soft whimpers as Spike quickly took over the kisses and she gave in without a second thought.
Letting herself go, Beth rode Spike's hard thrusts. She pulled herself away, kissing up the side of his face, brushing feather-light lips over the burns on his face. Spike twitched away, and Beth nuzzled down his jaw, catching his lips in another kiss. "Sorry," she whispered into his mouth. "You kissed mine and made it better, I can't kiss you better?"
No, she couldn't, because what was wrong with him, Spike didn't think could be kissed better. "Ssssh," he shushed, resting his forehead against hers. He spun around so that he was leaning against the counter, and Beth could see herself in the mirror again. "Just look at you, all flushed and warm and throbbing," he whispered. "Y'smell right now, you smell like blood and sweat and woman, like a Slayer ought." He kissed the side of her neck hard enough to leave a mark.
Beth braced against Spike when he spun her around, and she had meant to kiss him again until he started whispering to her. She stared at herself, panting softly and watching her chest heave as Spike spoke, and she wondered if that's what he really saw when he looked at her. Woman not girl, Slayer not trainee, blood and sweat and warm and real. Her nails dug into the skin on the back of his neck and she yanked him back for another kiss.
This one was slow and wet, completely the opposite of everything. Her heart was pounding in her throat, her hips were rocking frantically against Spike's thrusts, and he was holding tightly to her like he was drowning. His leather jacket creaked, and she accidentally tore his shirt down the front so she could feel his skin under her hands.
Spike laughed at that, uncaring about the damage. "Thought you liked it with clothes on," he breathed into her ear, then growling.
"I do." Her body jerked as her orgasm washed over her all at once. Unexpected and fierce, it wracked her with shudders as her head fell back, groaning softly.
Spike caught her head gently and turned her so that she could see herself come, see how her body reached for him, clasped him tightly and held onto him for dear life as she rode it out. "See how much you want me?" he whispered. "Can't make that up, pet. That's all you right there." His hand slid down over her chest, then down her back to haul her against him. Her heart slammed against her chest and he could feel it pounding almost as if it were his own.
"I do want you," she breathed, and the admission was tinged with amazement and shock, as if she hadn't realized it or admitted it to herself before. Anything else she was going to say was choked off by Spike's strangled grunt as she felt him coming hard inside of her.
He made to pull away as soon as he was done, but Beth's arms and legs stayed wound tightly around him.
-----
They'd barely made it to the bed before Beth was undressing Spike, and he was helping. He was surprised, though, when she reached inside the back seam of her teddy bear and pulled out a knife.
"Y'got to tell me why you stashed that there," Spike said, watching every move she made.
"Long story." She straddled his hips and looked down at him. "Did you let them look at you before you wandered off to find me?"
"What?" Spike's brows knit for a moment, and then relaxed. "No, went straight to find you and had to avoid the pouf while I was at it."
"He's not a pouf." Beth thumped him in the calf with her heel. "And you need blood."
Spike put it together a half a heartbeat later when he saw Beth put the knife to her skin. "Hey, hold it." He moved faster than she could and knocked it into the floor. "Not even in your wildest dreams, ducks."
"Am I not good enough any more? I thought Slayer blood was the best." Beth rolled off him long enough to pick up the knife and put it back in her bear. "Change your mind? Didn't like how I tasted?"
Oh, was that ever not the issue. "Tasted too good, and that's the problem. It's a dangerous road to walk down an' we're not."
Beth leaned down over him, pushing her hair to the side and showing him the hickey he'd left. "No? Almost did, and I have to admit, I wonder why you didn't go all the way."
Spike groaned, and tried to roll away. "Leave it be, Slayer."
"I wouldn't mind," she said softly, relaxing and rolling off Spike's chest.
"Yeah, see, I would," he said offhandedly. "I don't want… sodding well make up your mind first, all right? Y'said before you were scared and now you're offerin' up blood like it's water from the tap. An' I'm not gonna take it till I know for sure you know what--or who--the bloody hell you want." He reached for his jacket, for his cigarettes. "Not gonna get the taste of you in my blood and then watch you prance off with that… with Angel."
Beth reached across and took one of Spike's cigarettes, ignoring the no-smoking sign, and let him light both before she took a drag off hers. "Between you and Angel, I'm gonna lose my mind. He wants me and won't say anything about it, and you don't seem to want me, but you do something about it. Meanwhile, I feel like the tiger chasing its tail around the coconut tree and all I want to do is turn into butter."
"I… have no idea what the hell you're talkin' about tigers and butter," Spike said after a moment, trying to puzzle the metaphor out and failing. Instead, he ignored the rest of her words and blew a smoke ring at the ceiling.
"That's okay, I don't know what I'm talking about either." She rolled onto her side, her arm reaching across Spike's chest to flick off the ash onto the carpet, and left her head on his shoulder.
Spike followed suit, and just looked down at her. "But one day you'll tell me, right?"
"One day."
The End