Awaken to Danger by OKDeanna

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Chapter 7

Author's Notes: Thank you to Dusty273 for the beta on this chapter. I seriously do not know what I'd do without you on this story!

Spike could feel Buffy’s gaze on him even before he opened his own eyes to look at her, the power of her presence in his bed an overwhelming mix of warmth and comfort, fear and uncertainty. And yet, despite the emotions swirling in her irises, her facial expression revealed contentment, an almost dreamy, wistful type of satisfaction he’d not been prepared to see so early upon awakening.

He lifted his hand to her cheek, dragging his knuckles along her skin. “Bloody gorgeous even in the mornin’,” he mumbled softly before jerking his hand back and averting his gaze. “How long you been up, pet? Could have woken me. Would have called cook to send up a tray of breakfast.” He stopped in mid-reach for the house phone beside the bed, frowning in annoyance.

“Er, wait, ‘s Saturday, innit?” He glanced at her for confirmation, and sighed at her wordless nod, throwing an arm over his face as he shifted onto his back. “Never mind about the tray, then. Cook’s off today, tomorrow, too, more ‘n likely. Cheeky old bird likes to spend time with her family on the weekends.”

Spike moved his arm, mussing his hair with his hand before leaning up on his elbow and twisting to face the woman beside him. “’M not really a mornin’ person, love, so… forgive me for not bein’ awaken enough to think straight.” He leaned in to kiss her and froze as she scrambled back from him, her eyes wide and her hand flying to her mouth.

Oh bloody hell. What had he done to warrant that reaction?

He narrowed his eyes, trying to decipher the best way to go about this. “Uh, pet… want to tell me why you’re over there and I’m over here all by my lonesome?” He reached for her again only to growl as her tiny hands slapped his away. “Christ almighty, kitten, you havin’ second thoughts ‘bout stayin’ the weekend already?”

“N-no,” she stuttered, shaking her head, still scooting closer to the far edge of the bed. “N-no s-second t-thoughts.”

Then what the sodding hell was her problem this morning? “No second thoughts. Okay. Got that bit out of the way. Now… what about the other?”

“T-the o-other?”

He sighed, quickly growing exasperated with her sudden shyness… and fogginess. “Why are you there when I’m here? Doesn’ make for a nice mornin’ greetin’ now, does it, kitten?”

“N-not morning,” she told him absently. “A-afternoon, around t-two.”

Sod it all. It was that late? Already?

Tossing back the covers, Spike slid his body from the bed, standing the moment his feet hit the thick, carpeted floor. “Best be gettin’ a shower then. Got a big evenin’ ahead of us. Lots of learnin’ and punishin’ to do yet.” He glanced at her, not surprised to see the bit of color staining her cheekbones.

“Now, pet, what’s with the shy routine? You’ve seen it all before, yeah? No sense acting all virgin-eyes ‘bout it.” He stepped toward the end of the bed, quickly walking to her side of the mattress. When he got there, he frowned again, realizing she’d scooted to the middle of the four-poster bed. “Okay, pet, what the bleedin’ hell is wrong with you? Why are you runnin’ from me?”

She mumbled something, too low for him to hear, but… after taking in the way her hand still covered her mouth, he got it. “All this because of a li’l mornin’ breath?” He couldn’t help it; he laughed, long and loud and… hard. “Oh Christ, had me goin’ there, love. Thought it was somethin’ serious.”

“It is serious!” she snapped, her hand falling from her mouth as she sat up in the bed, giving him her best glare. Might’ve worked better if she’d had clothes on and all the love bites he’d given her were hidden from his view. “I need to brush my teeth. I… smell.”

So did he probably. Didn’t hear him complaining about it, did she? “Pet, relax. Got a few extra in the bathroom. Always keep ‘em on hand. Don’ like usin’ the same bloody toothbrush for more ‘n a couple of weeks or so.”

“Oh.” She frowned, briefly pulling her lower lip between her teeth before asking, “Are you going to go shower? Because if you’re not… I’d like to use the bathroom.”

He tilted his head, confused. “Why can’ we share it? Shared a lot of other things, haven’ we?”

“We can’t… I don’t…” She lowered her voice to that same, barely audible whisper. “I’ve never done that before.”

He smiled at that, inwardly pleased at the admission even as he was becoming uncomfortable with the implied intimacy in her tone. “Nothin’ to it, kitten. I’ll shower, you can brush your teeth in the sink, and then, if you want and are feelin’ up to it, you can join me under the spray.”

“You’ve done that before? Showered while someone else…” Her voice broke off as she gave her head another shake. “I’ve never showered with someone, either.” Her eyes found his again. “Is that bad? That I haven’t done that? That I haven’t… had that experience?”

This time it was his turn to frown, deeply frown. “Why would that be bad, pet? Lots of people have never showered together. Doesn’ make ‘em anything less for it. Jus’ makes ‘em… missin’ out is all.

“I missed out? On brushing my teeth and watching someone shower?”

His frown became a smile at that. “Watch me, love? Never said nothin’ ‘bout watchin’ me. Believe my exact words were… join me. But… if you wanna watch,” he paused, lifting a shoulder in a casual shrug, “…I don’ have a problem with it.” He ran a hand down his chest, curling his fingers around his hardened shaft. “Be more ‘n happy to give you a right good show, kitten, a preview of what’ll be comin’ later, so to speak.”

“P-preview?”

He nodded, crawling back onto the bed, catching her around the hips before she could escape him again. He settled between her thighs, kissing her lightly on the lips, despite her attempt to turn her head away. “Don’ be like that, baby. Wanna kiss you good mornin’.”

“Afternoon,” she corrected him absently again, staring up at him as he rocked his hips into her. “It’s afternoon now.”

He grinned, running a hand up and down her sides, pleased by her trembling limbs and shaky, panting breaths. “So it is.” He nipped at her lower lip, pulling it between his teeth and suckling once before asking, “Come get wet with me, pet. Let me clean you up good and proper. Show you what a shower nozzle’s really for.”

“Oh, I’ve…” her cheeks turned bright pink as she confessed, “… done that. Er, used… that. A-a nozzle. Shower sprayer! I’ve used a shower sprayer!”

Bet she hadn’t used it like he wanted to use it on her, though. “Have you now? And what, pray tell, did you do with this shower sprayer of yours?” Centering his palms on the mattress on either side of her head, he pushed his upper body away from her breasts, his eyes slowly raking over her naked, quivering form before returning to her face, awaiting an answer to his question. “Kitten? I asked you somethin’. Aren’ you goin’ to answer me?”

She shook her head.

He frowned. “Why the bleedin’ hell not?”

“It might…” she paused, sliding her bare foot up the calf of one leg before hooking hers over his hips and moving the other to join it, “… incriminate me.”

Incriminate? He’d bloody show her incriminate… “Pet?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and guide me in.”

“O-okay.”

Buffy couldn’t stop grinning. No matter how many times she told herself to knock if off, fought to get her lips to thin and her mind to quiet, the grin came back. Every. Single. Time.

Of course, it didn’t help that Spike was currently standing behind her, toweling her off, his own grin firmly plastered across his face. “Does that always happen when you use a multi-massaging shower head?”

He lifted his shoulder, arching an eyebrow. “Don’ rightly know the answer to that, love. You’re the expert. I’m just the happy li’l worker bee.”

Little, my ass. “That’s… never happened to me before,” she admitted, turning in his arms, rising up on her tiptoes, fitting her body flush against his as she gave him a slow, languid kiss. “Not so close together, at least.”

“Shame that,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Bloody good show, it was. The way your eyes rolled up and your slick, li’l body started quivering agains’ me. ‘S no bleedin’ wonder you milked me dry, with the way you and this body of yours was carryin’ on, actin’ all prim and proper at firs’ and becomin’ a bloody tigress at the end.”

He made a show of looking over his shoulder, his actions and his words earning him a slap on the chest from Buffy. “Got more ‘n one li’l scratch on my back from that, I reckon.” He twisted to the side so she could see the marks she’d left him with; she gasped, her eyes flying to his face as he rushed to reassure her. “Don’ worry, kitten. Doesn’ hurt me. And ‘sides, even if they did, be bloody well worth it, by my count.

“All three of ‘em, to be exact.”

She swatted him again, scowling in irritation. “Don’t be so cavalier, Spike. Some of these look kind of deep.” She fingered one, grimacing when he winced. “See… they’re tender.” She frowned, looking toward the drawers in the vanity cabinets behind her.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” she asked, opening one drawer and shoving it back in when it revealed nothing of use. “Some Neosporin or some kind of antiseptic maybe?” She opened another drawer and he groaned as she gasped in surprise, one hand closing around her bicep as he jerked her back around to face him. “S-Spike?”

He shook his head, frowning as he forcibly thrust the drawer back in place. “Not what you think, pet. Trus’ me.”

Trust him? He wanted her to trust him? When he had a… “Oh God. Please tell me that you aren’t really gay? That this isn’t some kind of test to… I don’t know what, but… oh, God. Please, Spike, please tell me I haven’t made a fool of myself here.”

“You haven’, love. Trus’ me. You haven’.”

“Then what are you doing with…” she paused as his fingers closed over her mouth, “… that.”

Right good question. What was he doing with it? Wasn’t like he’d ever used the bloody thing. Hadn’t even bought it for him to use. Had been a bloody birthday gift. One he’d never placed much stock in before, but…

“’S not mine, love. Belonged to an ex. Dru. Probably left the soddin’ thing there on purpose.” Crazy bint probably knew this’d happen someday. Wasn’t like he actually got in those drawers anymore. Why would he need to when everything he needed for his daily hygiene rituals were spread across the countertop within easy reach of his arms?

She frowned, glancing over her shoulder at the closed drawer. “What… does it do… exactly?”

Exactly? Buggering hell if he knew. Judging by its shape, though, he could hazard a good guess, couple of them really. “It’s a strap-on dildo, love. Got a li’l lockin’ ring around it… and a ball gag on the other side of it. Bloke—or bird, too, I s’pose—is intended to belt it around his head, gag in his mouth, while a partner uses the dildo to pleasure herself, or himself as the case may be.”

He let go of her arm to take a step back, away from her. “Like I said, it’s not what you think. Dru, she… wasn’ exactly the smartest bird on the planet. She bought it as a birthday present, thought I might like to… try somethin’ more adventurous with her.

“Never used it, though. She took it out of the package, I said I wasn’ interested in it and tossed it in there, and the two of us never spoke of it again.”

Buffy stared at him, eyes slightly dazed, lips opening and closing before finally parting enough to speak her question. “Did you… love her?”

What a question! Did he love Dru? Could anyone really love a woman like Drusilla? When she wasn’t acting crazy, saying things, demanding things… yeah, he’d loved her. Had bloody well thought the sun rose and set on her a time or two. Before she’d shown him who she truly was, how low she would sink to get what she wanted.

“Doesn’ matter if I loved her or not, love. Was over a hell of a long, soddin’ time ago.” And should’ve been over a long, bleeding time before that, too.

Spike gave his head another shake and turned to open the door, walking inside his bedroom, a naked, towel clad Buffy only a step behind him. “Spike… please, be honest with me. I want… No, I… I need to know.”

Why? What difference did it make? It was over. Done. Water under the bloody bridge. Why dredge the rot back up now? Wouldn’t change anything. Wouldn’t change Buffy being there, or Dru not being there. It was what it was, they were what they were.

“Why do you care so much about knowin’ the answer to this, pet? What does it change for you?”

“N-nothing,” she stammered, avoiding his eyes. “I just thought… I wanted to know if…” She sighed, gripping the knot of the towel between her breasts with both hands. “Forget it. It was stupid.”

Realizing she planned to go back in the bathroom and shut him out, he shot out a hand, halting her in midstep. “Don’ wanna forget it, pet. Wanna know the reasonin’ behind it.”

“No, you really don’t.”

Well, now he had to know, didn’ he? “Come on, kitten. Tell me why you need to know so bloody bad? If it’s a good enough reason, if it matters that much to you, I’ll answer the soddin’ question.”

She blushed, looking everywhere but his face. He closed the distance between them, placing his finger under her chin, pressing upward until her gaze met his. “Buffy? Why do you want to know if I loved Dru or not? Why’s it matter to you whether I did or I didn’?”

“It… doesn’t. Not… really. I just…” She sighed, closing her eyes as she blurted out, “I wanted to use the dildo gag. It sounds… fun.”

Fun? Fun?

He dropped his hand from her face, taking a measured step back as he narrowed a gaze on her. “I’m not putting that thing anywhere near my—”

“Not on you, Spike, on… me. I want to use it on me. Or rather, on you and in me.” She opened her eyes, locking them with his. “I want you to wear it when I tie you to the bed tonight.”

A/N: I am debating on the best time to post updates for this story. I have ch 8 almost done, only one scene left to write of it, but I'm thinking it might be better to have a set day for posting chapters than posting them irregularly throughout the week, like say, Sundays, perhaps? Let me know what day you're most likely to read/want to read/have time to read an update.

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