bakerstreet | Skeet skeet

What's not to like? Showing you the goods I know you enjoy. Knowing that even if you're trying to play it cool, you're likely picturing all sorts of sordid things in that pretty head of yours-- Jesus!

[His voice cut off when he felt her hand sliding over him, his almost lifting from the wall before he remembered, before he pressed them back and curled his lip at her in a half snarl.]

Impossible for me to be terrified of that. I was made in that, Pet. I followed the promise of it into death and it's been what's kept me company. I'll admit, it feels a little different when the hands doing the groping belong to the living, but I can't say I mind.

[ It took genuine effort not to smile when she made her point, knowing full well she'd caught him by surprise, no matter where he was really expecting this to go. Her hand didn't stroke, or tease, but there was strength behind it, a guarantee that it could be roughly good or incredibly painful depending on which way her mood toppled. ]

Your last three girlfriends were what? A needy dead girl, a needy dead girl and a robot. Competition's not so tough.

[ Actually she took that back. Harmony was terrifying, in that "why high school should stay in the past" kind of way. ]

You could...make it harder for me. Rise to the challenge?

[ Considering she was the one who'd brought up innuendo in the first place, she was, after all, just playing by her own rules. ]

Competition? You applying for the position? Or would that be... positions?

[He could feel the heat of her hand through his jeans, and she'd be perfectly capable of feeling just how up to the challenge he was. What was it about the volatile ones that got him all hot and bothered?]

I can think of a few I wouldn't mind trying out right now.

[ She gave him a warning, threatening squeeze, expression stern. ]

Don't get a-head of yourself. For someone who was promising me a spanking not five minutes ago, it's amazing how quickly you let yourself get whipped.

[ But now her hands were pulling away, slipping from the cool tension of his body to reach for the clasp of his belt. He probably needed it just to keep his jeans stuck to his slender hips, but Buffy had her mind on something else, a way to make sure she didn't lose interest in driving him crazy as they crossed the street and found a vacant mausoleum, afraid that if she took her hands off him, she'd change her mind and run home, just to avoid facing what she was doing.

The belt slipped free, and with the briefest glance toward his hands to make sure they stayed in place, she reached up to wrap the tongue around his throat. ]

Edited (i need to stop accidentally the crying icon) 2017-03-05 16:15 (UTC)

I prefer to think of it as playing the switch. If a behind needs swatting, I'm not really too chuffed over which one gets swatted.

[Her hand moved off from his crotch and he wanted to move it back, to press against that hot palm for just a little while. Until, of course, he realized what she was doing. The tug of his belt slipping free had his smile widening all the more, his eyes watching her face to try to pick up any tell-tale hints of just how she was feeling.

Then he felt the leather start to slide around his neck.]

Looking for a puppy, are we?

[ As she wound the tongue of the belt back through the buckle, she started picking off attributes out loud, her eyes downturned to keep an eye on what her hands were doing. ]

Let me see... Follows me around everywhere I go, check. Always looking for a pat on the head, check. ID chip in his neck, check. Bark is much, much worse than his bite... I'm not looking for a puppy, Spike. I've got one.

[ To make her point, she gave a firm tug on the tongue of the belt, and rocked back on her heel, stepping far enough away from Spike, and from the wall, to encourage the vampire to move after her. ]

I mean, let's face it, you even have a cartoon dog's name. It's not very sexy.

[Spike was used to abuse. He was used to it as William, then William the Bloody, then Spike. Vampires didn't exactly do healthy relationships, and he'd always been a sucker for wanting what he couldn't have, even when his heart still beat. Seemed that hadn't changed too much when it had stopped.

But, used to it or not, sometimes even a broken dog would bite the hand lifted towards it a bit. He might not be baring his teeth at the moment, but he could give a growl and let her know there was a line she was coming close to crossing.]

Didn't have cartoon dogs in my day, love. Especially not ones that slaughtered dozens and drove railroad spikes into them.

[She tugged and he debated tugging back for a moment, stilling for just long enough to make her have to tug a little harder to get him to take a step.]

Cruel doesn't fit right on you, Goldilocks. Never has. Bitchy, sure. Especially round that time of the month -- but as I don't smell that, and yes, I would...

[ She could survive a growl. Honestly, she probably deserved it, given the cartoon reference, and Spike hit right back with his own nickname. Oh well. Wasn't like it wasn't fair. She tugged harder, and stepped slowly back, guiding him in her footsteps. No traffic, which was probably for the best. Nobody to watch to see what they intended, drifting off back into the graveyard.

But if Spike thought that she was being cruel, then Buffy didn't intend to try and change his mind. It'd be a waste of energy. Not because she was cruel - though she had her moments - but because there no teeth behind her own insults, unlike the ones that lingered behind Spike's growl.

Her free hand reached up to curl around the back of his neck, pulling him slightly down toward her, and pausing in her retreat to stretch up and brush a kiss to his lips, darting back out of the way quickly enough that he couldn't take what he wanted from the kiss first. ]

You could be nicer to me. If you're nice to me, then you're in for the time of your life, and if you're not... [ Her hand slid right back to the end of the tongue of the belt, almost as though she were going to let it go. ] If you're not, then we could just call the whole thing off. Your call.

[She teased him with that threat of a kiss, making him hate himself for a moment with how badly he wanted more, how easily she could turn his moods with just the promise of a pet instead of a kick. She'd likely know what that sigh signaled -- his surrender to whatever game she was feeling like playing at the moment.

Still, the idea of her getting him riled up and then leaving him high and dry had him stepping forward more quickly, reaching to hook a finger into her jeans for a second to tug her in, even as he let go before she could draw back.]

I'm always nice when you want me to be, love. Helps if you play nice first.

[ So long as he didn't count on her being nice for too long. Things never quite worked out that way, after all, did they? And Spike had always been there at the worst moments, with a contemptuous word or two to share for her pain. To be fair, she had never really been that kind about his broken heart, either. Maybe that made them even.

She couldn't even remember when she'd stopped feeling it was completely pathetic, started to accept that maybe he wasn't such a waste of space as she'd always thought. Funny, it hadn't occurred to her to think too hard on it before.

Right now, she only thought about it for as long as it took them to cross the empty, dark road, and push open the cemetery gate, delayed only briefly by his attempt to make his appetite known.

She broke the padlock on the door with her elbow, then kicked it open, but her intent wasn't much on the space behind her. She was too busy pressing her mouth to his once more, biting briefly at his bottom lip. ]

What if I'm done playing nice?

Then I hope you're up for playing naughty.

[His hands were on her, sliding down over that curve in her back to grab at her ass, pulling her in against him as they somewhat made their way into the crypt. His attention was all for her, for the taste of her in his mouth, for the heat of her that threatened to burn him. He kneaded her backside, cock already hard and pressing into her as all that pent up aggression bled into passion.]

Skeet skeet

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