Dusty Cake
Disclaimer: see previous chaps. Oh, and of course I don't have anything to do with old navy
either.
Feedback/Reviews: Who needs reasons when ya've got heroin?
Rating: NC-17 for all the yummy smut
Summary: A simple spell goes awry with lusty consequences.
Author's Note: Where'd you all go? Doesn't anybody love me anymore? :'( Sorry this chap is a little
short but I've got some writer's block so I wanted to get what I had out. Maybe some reviews (I'm
such a review whore) will help me past my block.
It was just before dusk when Buffy slipped out of Spike's crypt. He lay sprawled across his bed
and she took one last look at his naked form before she left. On the way home she
stopped at a grocery store, the cashier giving her a barely contained glare before glancing
at the clock. Most people liked to get home before dark in Sunnydale. Buffy looked at the cake
display for less than a minute, sweeping up the nearest cake at a reasonable size and price.
Carefully counting out the money at the register, she paid and dashed out. Doing a quick patrol,
she swept through the cemetary paths that pointed in a meandering way to her house.
A dark haired vampire in a tattered jean jacket and plaid pants stepped into her path and lunged
for her. She dipped and spun behind him, barely keeping her grip on the bakery box. "Hey! Don't
you have any manners?!" Buffy shouted indignantly before scrunching her nose, "Or fashion sense?"
The vamp only snarled, and began to circle her, "Oh, right, not big concerns in the vampire
world, huh?"
She spun a heel kick to the vamp's face. As he slammed to the ground she turned and ran
to a low, wide, marble headstone. Laying the cake on the flat surface, she didn't have a chance to
turn before cold arms locked around her midsection. He sniffed her hair and stilled, his arms
still holding her tightly. He chuckled into her ear. "Slayer, Slayer.." he tsked with a wicked
grin. "You smell like..." he sniffed again "...you smell like Spike."
Buffy huffed indignantly, coming back with a lame, "You smell like dirt," as she slammed her head
back into his face. "Who's worse," she finished as she landed on her feet. The vampire staggered
back, knocking the cake with it's elbow.
"Oh!" Buffy yelled, her eyes widening as she watched the cake teetering on the edge of the
marble. "Ok! That's it!" she said and whipped a stake into his chest. He looked down for one
shocked moment then poofed into dust. Buffy raced forward and caught the box as it began to tip
over the edge. Wiping the particles of dust from the cellophane she muttered, "It's still good,
it's still good, it's still good..."
"Willow?!" Buffy called as she entered the front door. Willow whipped her head up and then
slammed the book she was reading closed. Quickly capping the vial of yellowish mixture closed,
she slipped it along with various ingredients into a drawer.
"Hey, Buff, I'm back here," she answered, checking the table one last time to make sure everything
was put away. Buffy entered the kitchen carrying a white bakery box. Her hair was mussed and she
looked tired. "What's that?" Willow asked curiously.
"A cake," Buffy said with a smile. "I said I was going to make a cake."
"Umm, Ok. So that's why you left?" Willow asked, her brow scrunched disbelievingly. " 'Cause I
thought it might have something to do with the spell...and maybe Spike?"
"What? Oh. That. No. I...just...well, I haven't been around much the last couple of days, so I
thought I'd make a big dinner for everybody and I needed a cake. But we didn't have any
ingredients so I went to buy one," Buffy's voice had gained a steady confidence as she finished
her explanation.
"Really? That'd be nice. A big dinner," Willow said happily, glad Buffy wasn't going to be
running out all the time anymore.
"So what were you doing?" Buffy asked, sliding the cake into the refridgerator.
"Me?" Willow squeaked. She cleared her throat while she thought of an appropriate answer, "I was
just...Getting a snack! Getting a snack....some...cookies and milk for Tara. She hasn't been
sleeping well. Not for any magical reason. She just can't sleep, is all," Willow babbled
nervously.
Buffy raised her eyebrows as Willow still stood by the sink awkwardly, "So are you getting them?"
"Oh! Oh. Of course. I'll just get the cookies and the milk," Willow said almost defensively as she
moved to the fridge.
Buffy shrugged her shoulders and said, "Ok, well I'm tired. I think I'll just shower and hit the
hay." Willow's eyes had glinted wonderingly at the mention of shower and Buffy quickly amended,
"Because of the slaying."
Willow watched Buffy leave the room before putting the milk away and opening the drawer where
she'd hidden her book.
Giles and Dawn came in the front door loaded down with bags. Most were for Dawn but a few wore
the more adult labels of stores where Giles had made some purchases. Dawn smiled at him and he
gave her a small smile in return. While he was more of a father figure to Buffy he was more like
a kind uncle to Dawn who had milked it for all it was worth. She'd flashed puppy dog eyes at a
store with atrocious and revealing clothes and he couldn't help it. He'd never been able to
resist Buffy either. And, while neither of the girls should be coddled even with Joyce gone, they
deserved a splurge now and then. Especially as he'd have to start his own life someday and leave
them to theirs. To forge ahead on their own path. So he'd paid for a silly black shirt with
"artfully" tattered sleeves. Then Dawn had him pulled him into a leather store and insisted
he try on a jacket. It wasn't quite the leather jacket of his Ripper days and he'd had to admit
it looked good on him. Smooth and soft black leather that hugged his shoulders.
He'd put his foot down at the silver ball necklace she's said he should wear.
He settled in for the night and flipped open to page 146. He sighed contentedly and flipped
to the next page that showed Molly straddling a fence. He sighed less contentedly. He stilled
as he heard Dawn's loud, boisterous music filter down the hall. Everyone seemed to be in bed for the
night. He was all by himself. Closing his eyes and thinking about Molly's full lips touching his
body, he reached for the bottle of lotion.
continue