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The sky had burst open, dropping rain on Spike’s head in painful torrents. Lightning blinded him as he stomped through the streets of Sunnydale on his way to Buffy's house. In his anger, he had left his car at Giles’s, rushing out on foot, the same way the Slayer had done. He snarled when he thought about her and cut across the park to get to her faster.
**She’s mine! I’m not playing around anymore.**
Thunder boomed and he slipped on slick grass, sliding down an embankment on his backside. With a loud splash, he hit a mud puddle and was covered by putrid water. He leapt to his feet quickly, scanning the area to make sure no one had seen his bout of clumsiness.
But someone had.
Buffy snorted and covered her mouth to keep from laughing outright. She had just dusted two vampires that had given her quite a bit of trouble. Mud and dust resin covered her clothing and most of her exposed skin and the same could be said for Spike now, thanks to the filthy water he had landed in. She composed herself and spoke loudly above the rain, “Let me guess. You always wanted to water slide but the darn things are day time only so you do this when you can?”
“Do you just enjoy hearing yourself talk?” He raised an eyebrow and looked her up and down. “And you…”
“Before you say a word…I am filthy from SLAYING…not from PLAYING.” She smirked at him and turned to stalk away.
He threw his hands in the air and followed. “I want to talk to you.”
“It’s lightning, Spike!” She shouted, above the howling wind. “And in case you’ve forgotten, I have a piece of metal stuck through my tongue. It might make for an amazing lightning rod.”
“Then I’ll come with you.”
“Don’t bother.” She said angrily and paused. It was impossible to understand what was happening between them. How was she supposed to know if he was interested in a relationship? He probably wanted a fling. She decided to try to make him jealous and see if he would say anything about what he wanted from her. “How am I supposed to have a normal life and get dates if you’re always hovering?”
“DATES!? After what keeps happening between us you want to DATE someone? WHO?” He gripped her shoulder, forcing her to look at him. How dare she even contemplate such a thing? “Are you seeing someone?”
“No! God! I’m just saying if I wanted to I couldn’t because you’re a fixture every single place I go.” She shook his hand off her shoulder and shrugged before she started walking again. He was definitely interested in more. She was interested in more. What was she doing? “I should be having dates.”
Spike fell in step beside her and shoved his hands in his pockets, wondering if he should ask her out. **What do I know about dates?** He grimaced when his fists connected with something mushy and quickly yanked out two fistfuls of mud. “My coat!”
Buffy giggled beside him and quickly recovered when he glared at her. She said, “What?”
“Slayer, do you find humor in the fact that my jacket it destroyed?”
“No. I find it humorous that you sat on your ass in a mud puddle. The jacket being destroyed is only proof and a reminder of that…which I’ve longed to see.” The look on his face forced her laughter to explode and Buffy leaned dramatically against the side of the swingset to catch her breath.
Spike stood in the rain grinding his teeth back and forth as she laughed hysterically at him. He could hear broken phrases escaping every now and then. She was saying something about asses and vampires and agility. Then she said “mud” which infuriated him for some reason. He glanced around and did the only logical thing.
He picked up a handful of mud and bounced it off the side of her head.
Buffy’s eyes widened and the laughter completely died in her throat. **Did he just do that?** As if in shock, she moved her hand slowly to the side of her head, where she felt for herself that he had in fact thrown mud into her hair.
It was Spike’s turn to laugh and he leaned back against the slide pointing at her and clutching his sides. “You look like someone SHIT on your head!”
Enraged, Buffy sprang at him, sending both of them both to the ground. They rolled for several seconds, an exact repeat of their debacle in Giles’s apartment, before they came to rest with him on top of her. The rain had almost stopped and she was able to look up at him without being blinded. “Get off.” She said without sounding very serious.
“I’d rather you get off first and then I’ll follow.” He smiled down at her, wondering how she could still be so beautiful in her current state. The big pile of mud was still clinging to the side of her head and her hair was sticking out at odd angles but he still thought he would die from not kissing her. “I could finish what I started earlier.”
Buffy felt herself blush and tossed him onto his back. She straddled him and plopped a handful of mud on his face. “You could finish what? Pulling your tooth out with my zipper?”
He wiped his face but didn’t try to throw her off of him. She was pressing his erection and he liked it just fine. “Mud wrestling is erotic, isn’t it? Why don’t we get naked and start over? I won’t get my tooth hung in anything that’ll mind.”
“You’re a pervert.” She shook her head and tried to look angry as she shot to her feet.
He got to his feet behind her and smiled. “You liked me just fine that way earlier. Let’s not forget who started it.”
“I did not start it!” Buffy paused, realizing that she did indeed start it.
“Lying is a big thrill for you apparently.” Spike cocked his head to one side, an uneasy feeling washing over him. “Do you hear something?”
“You mean besides your mouth?” She narrowed her eyes but listened intently to the sounds of the storm. For several seconds she heard nothing and then there was a low rumbling. Almost like the wind was growling. “What is that?”
Lightning illuminated the horizon and he gasped. “Ever see Twister?”
“What?” Buffy glanced the way he was looking and her eyes widened. “OH MY GOD!”
“RUN!” Spike grabbed her arm and they ran back through the park. He had seen the destruction of many tornadoes in his lifetime. But never while it was in action. The vision of the swirling black giant was something he wasn’t likely to ever forget. He was terrified.
“Look out!” Buffy screamed and ducked low when a picnic table on the other side of the park was suddenly flying toward them. It was coming too fast. They were going to be blown away. There was no shelter here. She realized that ducking into the public bathroom probably wouldn’t be enough.
“Where can we get into the sewer?” Spike was looking back over his shoulder at the trees, which were being bent almost to the ground. He wasn’t itching to get a nice pointy splinter off of one of them.
“Come on!” Buffy tugged him along, oblivious to the cuts and scrapes that were forming on her face and arms as she fought the debris.
The manhole cover was just behind a small utility shed that boasted Sunnydale Water Works on the side. Spike pushed her aside and ripped the cover off its hinges, swearing as it bit into the palms of his hands where it drew blood. He gripped her and pushed her inside just as the shed exploded under the force of the wind.
Buffy realized that he wasn’t behind her and quickly climbed back up the ladder. “SPIKE!”
She saw him a few feet away, trying to fight against the wind and come back to the hole. He was motioning wildly for her get back underground where she was safe, but Buffy would have died first. She came out and a gush of wind pushed her straight into his arms. He was vamped, his demon struggling and unwilling to surrender to something like Mother Nature’s fury. He’d be damned.
Together, heads ducked, they made it back to the sewer. As soon as they were both safely up to their knees in the rushing water he gripped her shoulders. “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU COME BACK OUT FOR!?”
“I was worried.” Buffy admitted before she could help herself.
“Worried that you would miss seeing my demise?” Spike growled.
Buffy’s eyes widened and she latched onto him. “I’m about to see it.”
A solid blanket of water, the height and width of the tunnel hit them full force. Spike could feel her clinging to him and fought to gain a firm grip on her in case she was knocked out. It felt like they were being swept along for hours but he knew it was only seconds, minutes perhaps, before they were actually able to stand. He stood first and pulled her up beside him.
“Are you okay?” He asked, gripping her under her arms and shaking her a little.
“You don’t look okay.” Spike studied her face. She had a few minor cuts and bruises but that wasn’t what he meant. The Slayer looked terrified. He was terrified himself but she looked paler than he usually did.
Saying nothing, Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on tight. How was she supposed to tell him that all she could think about was the fact that she almost died without telling him how much she wanted him? That he almost died without knowing that he was her entire life? How was she supposed to just say she was okay when her heart was pounding and she wanted to wrap him up and cling to him forever?
“Shhh.” He heard her sniffle against his neck and rubbed her back, trying to soothe her. “It’s okay. We’re safe even though I don’t think this is a sewer.”
Buffy pulled away, absently drying her eyes so she could see where they were. The tunnel they were in had overhead lights and a stairway at one end. “I think we’re in an escape route. Willow told me about it. The people of Sunnydale, back in the sixties, built several bomb shelters underground and routed them through the sewers so people could find them more easily.”
“Well, maybe we should find one and see if we can dry off. At least until the storm passes.” He stared at her, waiting for her to reply. When she didn ’t respond, he made the decision himself and pulled her along behind him.
The door at the top of the stairs had a crank that had to be turned in order to unseal it. After several tries, he was able to twist it and the door opened. Spike entered first, flipping the light switch on. What he saw was impressive. The room they were in was quite large and almost looked like a boardroom. There was a table, several chairs and stacks of books and papers. Spike lifted one of the papers and said, “It’s a map of the ‘Underground Complex’.”
Buffy stepped in beside him and stared at it. “Infirmary. I need an aspirin and a valium if they have any.”
He shrugged and stuffed the map in his pocket, following her. There was a labyrinth of passages, each marked with plaques that told which way to go. Whoever had designed it had thought of everything. There were two kitchens, bathrooms everywhere and storage rooms full of food and other necessities. The infirmary was situated at the end of the main tunnel. Buffy quickly began going through the cabinets, where she discovered a large first aid kit and a bottle of painkiller.
She turned, held it up and smiled triumphantly. “Let’s go to the bathrooms and clean up. Then we can play doctor.”
“I like the sound of that.” He grinned, took the case and followed her back down the hallway.
“Are you still being a pervert?” She asked absently, studying another map she had found in a box on the wall.
“Still? I never stop.” He grinned and glanced at the map. “Where are we going?”
“Clothing. Granted, I’m not aching to get into some nineteen sixties poodle skirt but I’m freezing and I don’t know how long we’ll be down here.” Buffy put the map back and glanced down the ‘D’ hall. “This way.”
Spike followed along behind her, admiring the way her wet clothing clung to her curves. “If you don’t want to wear a skirt, I won’t tell anyone that you walked around in your knickers.”
Buffy paused outside the door marked ‘Apparel’ and smiled up at the vampire. “Just between me and you, I never wear knickers.”
“Is that right?” He moved toward her mouth, intent on claiming it as his.
“You’ll have to take my word for it. Since I’ll never show you.” Buffy blew him a kiss and turned toward the door.
He grabbed the doorknob with her, both their hands molding around each other. “Slayer, I bet you will show me.”
“I bet I won’t.” She swallowed hard and stared at their hands. **I bet his hands are so experienced. I bet he would make me scream within seconds.**
“I’d have you screaming in three seconds.” Spike moved her hair off her shoulder and leaned toward her ear to whisper. “I’ll make the bet even easier. I bet I’ll find out tonight whether or not you wear knickers.”
She squirmed and her eyes widened when his tongue snaked out and trailed along her earlobe. Finally, she asked, “What are the odds?”
He wiggled his eyebrows at her like he was offering her a grand prize. “A date. If I win, I plan it. If you win, you plan it.”
“And that’s supposed to motivate me? A date with you?” Inside she was so happy she couldn’t stand it. He wanted a DATE with her. A real date. Something she hadn’t had many of. She pushed past him and quickly entered the room, cringing at the cuts and styles of the shirts and slacks.
“Well, I made the bet so I get to set the odds. Take it or leave it.” Spike eyed a pair of reversible pants and shook his head. “This better never make a comeback.”
“Actually…” Buffy prowled through several sweaters before she picked one that was pink and cute. “I’ve got tickets to a show this weekend. When I win, you have to go with me.”
“What kind of show?” He growled. “Slayer?”
“It’s not important. Take it or leave it.” She shrugged.
He held out his hand and grimaced when she shook. He was never more determined to win a bet in his life.
“And really…it isn’t as bad as it seems I mean sure…we’re trapped in a big piece of metal that flipped a couple of times and it was painful and the smell is kinda bad but on the whole I’d say we fared pretty well.” Willow babbled. “And really..”
“Willow, please? Silence is really the only think left preserving my sanity.” Giles glared at the soaked and dirty redhead as he lit a match inside the dumpster they were hiding in. The wind had blown it on it’s side and then onto it’s top, pushing them down the street. Now they were stuck under it, waiting for the rescue squad or someone, anyone, to come along and tip it back over. They had tried unsuccessfully for thirty minutes to rock it to its side so they could climb out.
“Uh…I know it looks bad.” Willow stared at the Englishman, then at Oz, who was picking pasta out of his hair. “At least we lived.”
“Willow, I have told you repeatedly that magick isn’t something to toy with.” Giles hissed when the match burnt his finger and blew it out. “I asked you to call the winds to remove the demons. Not call the winds, cause a tornado and remove us all.”
“But we lived so no harm done. And if calling a little wind can get rid of a demon or two then calling a LOT of wind probably got rid of them all.” Her voice wasn’t half as calm as she would have liked it to be. “Right?”
“Do be quiet.” Giles sighed in the darkness and leaned his head against the metal wall of the dumpster. He felt something drip into his hair and cringed.
“Will?” Oz said quietly. “’Do be quiet’ means shut up. Listen to him.”
“But I just wanted to say…” Willow stopped when she felt Giles shift. “Giles?”
Her reply was Giles’ voice, screaming loudly while he pounded on the side of the dumpster. “HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP! GET ME OUT OF HERE!”
“It’s okay, Will. You’ve leveled the town and driven Giles insane.” Oz shrugged and patted her hand when he heard her sniffle. “But things could always be worse.”
~~ Buffy wrapped her hair in a towel and secured one around her body before she stepped out of the shower stall and walked across the hallway to the men’s room. Instead of dressing, she chose the towel because of several scrapes on her back that he needed to look at. She also liked tormenting him and wanted to watch his face when he saw the towel. There were several urinals lining one wall and she noted that Spike had put his clothes on top of one of the sinks. Briefly, she entertained the idea of hiding them, then thought better of it.
She leaned against the wall and waited patiently while he showered on the other side of the room behind a row of lockers. The sound of water splashing and the steam that was rising from it was having an odd effect on her. The thought of him, naked, just a few feet away was almost debilitating and quite possibly the most arousing thing she had ever experienced. She closed her eyes, envisioning herself walking into the shower area and getting his attention. He would start toward her but she would hold up her hand and stop him. Then slowly, she would let her towel drop to the floor and let his gaze wash over her.
She wanted to lose herself in his arms. Tonight was the perfect night, this was the perfect place and there was no telling what they would find when they went back to town. Buffy felt her eyes glaze over and moved toward the shower.
That’s when Spike began to sing.
~Yeah, let's do it for your country, the red, white, and the blue,
If the President were standin' here, I'm sure he would approve.
Cause he's a bloody pervert who likes to do it too
Let's do it for your country, your cunt will thank you too~
**A very shocking take on a song from Grease 2.** Buffy thought and giggled, quickly putting a hand over her mouth. She pressed her back firmly against the lockers, the only thing that blocked her view, and hoped against hope he would continue to unknowingly serenade her.
Spike felt her presence. He left the shower running and tiptoed quietly toward the wall, pausing when he heard her breathing just on the other side. Grinning like a madman, he leapt around the corner and screamed, “What are you doing?!”
Buffy screamed and threw her arms in the air, clearly terrified. Her heart pounded against her chest and she clutched at her breast, trying to regain control. She shrieked when she came in contact with her bare skin and looked down. The towel that had been around her was lying in a clump on the floor. “OH MY GOD!”
Spike stepped on the towel as she kneeled known and reached for it. “You aren’t a natural blond, luv.”
Still kneeling, and completely mortified, she kept her eyes on the floor. “Spike, get off my towel.”
“I don’t really want to, pet.” He wondered if she realized that her head was only inches from his erection. He also wondered if she realized how stunning she was and how much he wanted her.
Fighting for control, she said, “Don’t make me get you off.”
“I rather wish you would.”
“Spike!” Buffy grew even redder and jerked her head upward, only to be thumped on the nose by the head of his dick. It took her several seconds to realize that it was at eye level and standing at attention.
Spike leaned lazily against the wall and wiped running water off his face while she continued to stare at his crotch. After what felt like hours, he snapped. “Does it pass your inspection, Slayer?”
Buffy was absolutely stunned that he was so comfortable in his nakedness and so unashamed of the fact that he was aroused. She licked her lips, about to tell him he was egotistical and annoying, when her tongue ring brushed over her teeth. What was it the man at the tattoo parlor had said? That her lover would be thrilled with it? Maybe she should put that to the test. Maybe she should take advantage of what was right in front of her. **I want him. I’d be a fool if I didn’t do this.**
Without giving herself time to second guess her actions she brought her hand up and rested it on his thigh. The cool tightness of his skin was enough to make her painfully aware of the sticky heat that was building between her legs. With her other hand, she gripped him and slowly stroked upward, running her thumb around the tip of his cock.
Spike’s eyes widened. He had expected her to jump up and run…not play with him. Her agenda was probably to get him turned on and walk away. “What are..ooooh.”
She grinned a little when he moaned out and then continued running her tongue up and down the underside of his shaft. Feeling bold, she enveloped as much of him into her mouth as she could, letting her tongue ring trace all around him as she slowly pulled back.
Spike thought he was going to die as she repeated what she had just done several times, tightening her grip each time and raking him with her silver stud. He needed to be inside of her and wanted to feel her hips thrusting upward to meet his. His urgency pushing him forward, he gripped her under the arms and pulled her up his body.
Buffy gasped when he lifted her but quickly surrendered herself to his kiss, her tongue willingly meeting his as he plundered her mouth. His hands roamed her body freely; finding none of the familiar walls she had built up to block their exploration. As he traced her delicate curves, she arched her back, pressing her breasts against his tight chest.
Spike broke the kiss and smiled down at her. He was about to pin her to the wall and take her when he heard something behind them. He tensed and felt Buffy tense next to him. She whispered, “What was that?”
“I don’t know. Do you have a stake?” Spike glanced at her, trying not to give in to the urge to ignore whatever had caused the noise.
She opened her arms wide, no longer embarrassed by her nudity. “Where would I put a stake? Do you see a stake?”
“Get dressed. Someone’s in here with us.” He stomped angrily to the sink and pulled on a pair of plaid pants, cringing all the while. It was bad enough that he had to stop what he was doing without getting some much needed release, but he was having to dress like an idiot to boot. “Damn these clothes.”
Buffy nodded as she pulled on the pink sweater and a mid-calf length thick skirt. She slid her shoes on and turned just as Spike had finished dressing. He was leering at her. “What?”
“You don’t wear knickers.” He smiled.
“I told you that.”
“Well, I win the bet then because I found out before the night was over.” Spike moved closer to her when someone shouted.
“Buffy! Are you down here?”
“Damn!” She shook her head, recognizing Anya’s voice. Shrugging apologetically she shouted, “Yeah, in the men’s room.”
Spike caught her arm as she started past him. “I get to plan our first date.”
“I am not doing anything to maim myself.” She shook her head. “You can forget quite a few things actually. For one, I will not strip and two...”
“Buffy,” He put a finger to her lip and shushed her. “I’d like to take you to this show thing that you have tickets to. That’s what I want our date to be. An…and dinner of course.”
She grinned widely at him, amazed that he remembered what she said and that he was so sweet. “You have to wear a tux.”
He pointed at his plaid pants and striped shirt. “Uh…at this point I’m thinking anything is an improvement.”
Buffy moved to kiss him but paused when Anya pushed open the door. The girl regarded them a few moments and said, “I had to put a locator spell on you, Buffy! What the hell are you doing down here? And what are you both wearing? Are you of this world or did Willow's spell suck you here from another time? I hate this town.”
“We're hiding from a tornado.” Buffy shivered at the memory of it. “Is everyone okay?”
“Well,” Anya scratched the side of her head before she spoke. “Giles is a basket case. He got trapped in a dumpster with Willow and Oz and apparently he had to listen to Willow apologize non-stop for almost two hours before they got rescued. He begged to be given a nerve pill.”
“Why was she apologizing?” Buffy instinctively gripped Spike’s hand as they walked toward the exit.
“She called the winds to pull a demon out of town.” Anya replied, then screamed. “XANDER, I FOUND THEM!”
Xander came rushing out of the galley with several boxes of cookies. “This is my new home away from home. What a cool place! Will should cause tornadoes more often!”
“Wait.” Spike stopped walking. “Willow caused that tornado? I'm so glad to be on this side. She's getting good.”
“Yup.” Xander nodded and stuffed several cookies in his mouth. “She’s taking her fascination of the ‘Wizard of Oz’ a little far.”
“I think it’s neat.” Anya said. “I mean, imagine how it must feel to cause a good blow.”
“Blowing’s good.” Xander wiggled his eyebrows at Anya and took her arm, mumbling about how he was bring her back to the bomb shelter for a date.
Spike leaned down and whispered, “Willow caused more than just the wind to blow tonight. I must say, this evening has been…”
“Frustrating.” Buffy reddened and shook her head. “It must be a sign. We keep getting interrupted or caught.”
“I bet our date will go off without a hitch.” He kissed the back of her hand and pulled her down the hallway.
“I bet it won’t. It can’t when we’re involved.” She was so aggravated that people kept showing up she couldn’t stand it.
“Let’s shake on that.” He jiggled the hand he was holding up and down.
“What are the odds?”
“Odds are we’ll fight. Odds are we’ll yell at one another at least once and odds are we’ll shag. Do those sound like good odds?”
Buffy nodded at him. She was too happy to say anything. What had started off as a platonic and mostly annoying working relationship had become something else entirely. It scared her, it made her crazy most of the time but most of all it made her happy. Fifty-one percent of the time she was fighting with him or thinking of ways to kill him but the other forty-nine percent was absolute bliss.
Those were pretty good odds. Odds that would probably sway to one hundred percent bliss if he was right and she hoped like hell he was.
[Part One: Living La Vida Loca][Part Two: Tattooed][Part Three: Pierced] [Part Four : Kissed]
[Part Five: Drunk] [Part Six: Honesty][Part Seven: Blown] [Part Eight: Happy]
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