Violins And Heartstrings - Chapter 16

True to his word, Spike showed up at five-thirty only to find Buffy already waiting for him. She hopped into his car and clicked her seatbelt firmly into place. As he pulled away from the studios he looked over at her, she was looking more relaxed now but still a little stiff.

"Been waiting long?" Spike gave her a warm smile.

"Felt like an eternity." She noticed that Spike looked a lot better than he did this morning--his eyes were brighter again.

"Rough day?" He gunned the engine as they hit the first long stretch of tree-shaded road that lead to Buffy's house.

"Kept breaking strings, too tense to play smoothly." She held her fingers up to show him the plasters that littered her hands; Spike frowned for a split second.

"Sorry."

"Not your fault. I need to unwind--it's been kinda intense." She picked at her plasters idly while watching a little smile flicker on Spike's lips, she'd seen that mischievous smile a thousand times on her little girls face.

"Tomorrow, we'll do nothing. Fix you a picnic and just relax."

"But I have to work." Buffy said quietly and watched him frown.

"On a Sunday? I bloody well think not. Picnic, end of story and no protests." He held up his hand to silence her and she nodded.


On arriving home, Buffy realised that there was hardly anything to eat in the house. When she mentioned it to Spike he started rifling through her cupboards and pulling out various packets and jars. Once the small island in the middle of her kitchen was covered in a mountain of food Spike stopped and looked at it.

"No food huh?"

"Nothing I could make something with I said, not that there wasn't any." Buffy watched him as he started picking out things and placing them to one side.

Smiling to herself she looked in the fridge for something to drink, spying a bottle of wine near the back she pulled it out and wiped the condensation off it--it was a light white wine she'd bought when she'd first arrived in New York last week. Putting it down on the counter, she stepped aside as Spike poked his head into the fridge.

"Don't you own anything resembling green?"

"For a guy, you eat weirdly healthy."

Spike paused for a moment and rolled his eyes. "It's a miracle I eat at all, put a pound on and the camera adds ten--little bastard that it is."

"Don't you get to eat what you want? Where's the fun in that?" Buffy pointed to the drawer at the bottom of the fridge, helping him in his quest for vegetables.

He pulled out a mixture of pathetic looking herbs, some tomatoes and an onion. "Don't get me started, I can eat what I like in between movies, so long as it's in moderation and I'm up for working out like a madman when the shooting starts."

"Sucks to be you." Buffy giggled and pulled the cork from the wine, sniffing it, she poured two large glasses and handed one to him.

"You telling me that you eat what you want?"

"Yep. Ice cream, popcorn, burgers and all that bad stuff." She smiled wickedly and watched his face fall.

"S'not fair. How'd you keep trim then?" Spike put a pan of water on the stove and then leant against the counter opposite her.

"Chasing a little girl around kinda wears you out…plus I do a lot of kick boxing and stuff."

"Kick boxing and stuff?" Spike looked at her with his mouth hung open--his slight little girl did martial arts.

"Yeah, could kick your tiny ass." She quirked her eyebrows at him and sipped her drink.

"I don't doubt it."

Turning back to the pan he watched it bubbling away and slipped a handful of spaghetti into it, and gave it a stir to stop it from sticking together then turned back to Buffy.

"Whatcha making?" Buffy peered over at the stove.

"Spag bol."

"Spag wha?" She wrinkled her nose up and Spike sighed--he loved it when she did that.

"Spag-het-ti Bol-og-nese…" He leant forwards slightly and spoke slowly like she was a foreigner.

"Oh. Why didn't you just say that?" It struck a chord in her and she smiled dreamily--Willow loved spaghetti Bolognese.

"Because…what?" Spike felt a little unnerved by the dazed look in Buffy's eyes, she was staring at him blankly and smiling.

"Sorry. Willow loves 'spag bol'." Buffy shook her head and watched Spike blink, his eyes lighting up at the first mention of Willow all evening.

"She does?"

"Yeah. She calls it 'bolly'. I can only make it from a jar, cook pasta, cook meat, add sauce…pathetic huh, you're making it from scratch and I make it from a jar."

Spike pulled her into his arms and smiled down at her. "Not pathetic, want me to show you how?"

When Buffy nodded, he manoeuvred her over to the waiting pan and started showing her how to cook the sauce. As their lesson went on, Spike moved to stand behind her and let an arm circle her waist and his chin rest on her shoulder. Buffy leant into him and sighed as he breathed in her ear.

"Just stir…nice and slow…" Spike purred by her neck and she felt tingles dancing across it.

Buffy stared blankly at the pan and let him hold her hand around the spoon as they both stirred the sauce, she felt like she was teetering on a precipice and she was going to fall for him no matter what she did. Spike held her flush against him, his palm splaying out on her stomach and his eyes rolling closed--it felt divine being so close to her.

When the food was ready, Spike released her and she gulped her glass of wine down while he drained the pasta. They ate in silence, neither one taking their eyes off each other for more than a second and both feeling drawn to each other like a moth to a flame.

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