tamingthemuse | Prompt #151 - Higgledy-piggledy - Just A Crumb - Spikesdeb

Title: Just a Crumb
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Prompt: #151 - Higgledy-Piggledy
Rating: PG
Summary: Spike always wanted 'just a crumb' and maybe he's finally got it. You never can tell with Buffy...set season 6, sometime amid all the sexual shenanigins.
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine - more's the pity. Only benefit I get from this is having fun, so thanks Joss et al...
Thanks : to seductivembrace for fixing my errors and for doing so in such short time - as usual! Anything amiss it's my bad, so please let me know.

JUST A CRUMB

It was just coming light when Buffy woke, sore and aching. Her back was grazed and both wrists were circled in bruises, tender to the touch. She slid a finger across the bruised flesh, her mind flashing back to last night and how she'd received such a tangible reminder of dangerous pleasure. She smiled to herself, feeling naughty, loved the feeling and stretched out, her hands above her head, her back arched. The covers slid from her with the movement revealing her toned torso, with more reminders of hedonistic seduction. Bite marks, scratches, more bruises. It took a lot to mark a slayer, and she'd definitely taken a lot last night...

Rolling over, Buffy discovered where the handcuffs had ended up and that she wasn't at home in bed, but on the floor of Spike's crypt. It was odd how distracted being tired could make you. She never slept over at Spike's, never. Sleeping was definitely the last thing on her agenda. Oh boy, was it. She guessed that Mr-nine-times-a-night had finally worn her out. It had been a long day – slaying, dealing with Dawn, dodging her friends so that she could get to Spike. Not that she'd admit that was what she was doing; oh no, she was simply patrolling and happened to be in the vicinity of Spike's crypt and may as well drop in to see what mischief he was getting up to.

He was getting up to her, apparently – and she wasn't complaining.

Buffy shook her hair from her face and looked around. The light was weak but enough for her to see the rugs and discarded clothing that littered the floor of the crypt, all higgledy-piggledy and wildly abandoned. It gave her a warm, sexually in-charge, I'm-a-bad-girl, high and she grinned, feeling free and...loved. Now that wasn't good...this wasn't a love thing, not at all. This was all about the sex. Nothing but the sex. No feelings, other than the tingly, toe-curling ones.

But she was lying to herself. Had been for a while now. She was grateful that her friends were so caught up in their own dramas that they hadn't noticed, and that Spike seemed too awestruck just stripping her of her clothes and wasn't making something more of it.

Movement at her side made her jump; she hadn't even thought to check where Spike was, and here he was, all lean and muscular and looking at her through lazy eyes that had her blood pounding through her veins.

“Buffy...you still here?” Spike drawled. His voice alone did wicked things to her and she grabbed at her clothes, flustered and not wanting him to see it. “Well, while you've nothing better to do...you could do me...” He punctuated the rumbling suggestion with a quirked eyebrow and a tilt of the head that literally had Buffy weak at the knees. She couldn't have gotten up and walked out even if she'd wanted to.

And she definitely didn't want to.

“Just leaving. Must have passed out – my panties?” Buffy reached across Spike to grab her underwear, holding out her hand and trying to scowl at him as he beat her to it and held the scrap of lace swinging from his finger.

“What's it worth?” he rumbled, biting on his bottom lip. Buffy didn't quite manage to stifle the gasp that rose up as lust rushed through her. He knew exactly what buttons to press, knew how to break down her barriers, and he was using all his considerable knowledge to get to her.

“Spike,” Buffy warned. “I have to get back to Dawn. Give.” Using Dawn as the reason to flee was a masterstroke, Dawn being the other Summers girl resident in the vampire's heart. But maybe due to the lack of conviction in Buffy's voice, Spike seemed to be resisting.

He certainly wasn't letting go of her panties.

She grabbed again, losing her balance and ended up splayed out across Spike's naked, very lickable, totally accessible, body. It was amazing how calm she could seem with her heart racing, breath coming in little pants as she locked fingers around his, her other hand curled around the back of his neck. Her breathing was all out of whack, and for the moment Spike was all that existed in Buffy Summers' world, her eyes fixed on his, the connection between them intense.

Spike was terrified to move and break the moment. He really hadn't believed his luck when he'd woken up to find Buffy still beside him rather than the customary empty space and a lingering scent of their lovemaking. Then she hadn't bolted when he'd teased her – and now she was so very close to him, her skin heated against his cool chest. His eyes, if she took the time to read them, would tell her everything about his feelings for her. Spike swallowed. Buffy finally blinked, breaking eye contact and bent to kiss him. Soft lips mapped his and Spike shifted slightly so that Buffy could slide further across him, their legs entwined.

There was something different about the way she was kissing him. He bet she felt it too. It gave Spike the courage to caress her, be gentle, be the way he wanted to be – loving her and showing it. He couldn't help it – when she moved away from his lips to kiss along the side of his neck, he foolishly allowed the feelings that he kept bottled up inside him to burst out. He babbled, called her love, Goldilocks – all the things she'd told him not to.

Buffy stilled immediately. She fought against it, given that she'd admitted to herself that she felt more for Spike than him being just a quick fix. But it was so ingrained in her to run away, to keep him at more than arms' length, that she just couldn't manage it. Spike tightened his hold on her hand but she struggled away, grabbing at her panties and hightailing it to the far side of the crypt. Spike lay back with his hands behind his head, speechless, and unable to watch her leave him yet again.

Buffy dressed hurriedly, all the time cursing herself for being an idiot. Her heels clattered on the stone floor as she headed for the door, and Spike sighed as he heard it open. He'd thought, even to the end, that she might just turn around. Should have known better.

He almost missed her whispered 'sorry' as the door closed behind her.

But hearing it, he managed a small smile. Sorry was better than nothing, and it gave him his little crumb of hope.