Enter Canis Minor

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Starlight Series: Story 5/12

AUTHOR: Ariane
EMAIL: ariane_five@yahoo.com
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike
SETTING: Post 'The Grave' AU S7
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November 21st 

“This is Mark,” Xander announced to Buffy and Dawn. They’d just joined the two young men who were sitting at a small table, in a dark, crowded corner of the Bronze.

Mark reached over the table and shook Buffy’s hand. He held on to it for a moment; she gazed into his eyes. His eyes were deep blue and she felt as if she were falling into them.

“Hey.” She smiled and quickly withdrew her hand. “So blue,” she thought nervously, “So like his eyes…” She felt herself blush.

The Bronze was packed with students home for the Thanksgiving holidays. It was almost two o’clock in the morning and everyone was still going strong. The music was loud and Buffy was very glad that the lights were dim.

“Would you like to dance?” Mark held out his hand again.

“Sure,” she glanced nervously back at Dawn who gave her a little smile of encouragement, “Why not?”

She stood up and soon found herself swept into Mark’s strong arms.

“Uh…this isn’t a slow dance, you know,” she murmured.

“I dance as I please,” he laughed. “It pleases me to hold a beautiful woman close in my arms, not watch her flaying about three feet away from me.” He pulled back a bit and looked down at her. “So who are you Miss Buffy Summers?”

“No one. Just another starving college student.” She glanced over the crowd, trying to avoid his eyes.

“I find that hard to believe. I think you’re someone. I can feel your energy.” He traced his fingers slowly down her bare back.

She shivered under his touch. Why had she worn this stupid backless dress? She couldn’t believe how his touch made her feel. She closed her eyes and leant softly against his chest and surrendered to his touch. She hadn’t been touched like this since Spike. She disappeared from the moment and lost herself in a reverie of Spike’s hands slowly stroking her skin, caressing her face, her arms, sliding down her back and hips…and…She suddenly stopped dancing and twisted away from Mark’s arms.

“Thanks…nice dance, but I have to…” she was at a loss for words, so she just turned around and fled back to the table.

“Dawn,” she said, giving Dawn a desperate look. “Can you go home with Xander? Feeling so not into dancing here.”

“You want me to come with you?” Dawn looked anxiously at Buffy’s white face.

“No, no, I don’t want to spoil your fun. I just need a little air and then some sleep. Stay as long as you want, OK? I mean it. I’ll be fine.” She gave a quick glance back to where she’d left Mark on the dance floor. He was walking toward their table.

“Gotta go now, love you.” Buffy grabbed her coat and gave Dawn a hug and then hurried away, out of the back door of the Bronze.

Mark stood next to Dawn’s chair, watching Buffy hurry off into the night. “Was it something I said?”

Dawn gave him a narrow look, “What did you say?”

“I just asked her who she was. Said she had great energy. Oh yeah. Told her she was beautiful.” Mark shook his head. “Most women don’t run away from me when I tell them they’re beautiful. Is that an insult these days?”

“Forget it. Buffy’s been through a lot lately. She’s a bit shy of men these days.”

“Had her heart broken?”

“Yeah, but she’d never admit it,” Dawn laughed. “She keeps stuff pretty much inside. But she’s the best sister in the world. So don’t mess with her. OK?”

“Yeah, hear you loud and clear. So what about you? Will you dance with me? I promise I won’t tell you how gorgeous you look in that dress.”

“I wouldn’t believe you anyway.” Dawn smiled and stood up.


* * * * *


Buffy gulped the fresh night air as she ran down the streets of Sunnydale. Her heart was beating hard as she sped through the empty streets. She felt as if she was being chased by an unknown assailant and was running for her life.

When she finally stopped running, she found herself standing outside of Willie’s bar. She peered through the small dirty window. The bar was empty except for Willie, who was sweeping the floor. She pushed on the door. It swung open and she strode into the room.

“Not again, Slayer!” Willie moaned. “Isn’t once a night enough? I’m closing up here!”

“Not yet. I need a drink.”

“A drink?” Willie’s curiosity got the better of him. “Well I’ve got just the thing. Opened this bottle of fine scotch, just last night.” He pulled out a half empty bottle from beneath the bar. “As a matter of fact I was sharing it with a friend of yours.”

He poured her out a generous drink. She grabbed the glass out of his hand and gulped it down. After she stopped coughing, she pushed it back across the counter.

“More.” She gave him a hard look, “You have some information for me?”

“Well let’s say a certain someone you’ve been asking about was in here last night and he’s got a big problem.”

“Who?” Buffy reached across the counter and grabbed Willie’s ear and began to twist it slowly. “Who was in here?”

“Ouch! Let me go! It was Spike, Spike!” he yelled.

“What kind of ‘big problem’? Where is he?”

No matter how hard she twisted his ear, he wouldn’t reveal to her what Spike’s ‘big problem’ was or where he lived. She finally gave up and sat back down on the bar stool. He put a safe distance between them and stood glaring at her. She picked up the bottle of scotch and drank the rest of it straight from the bottle. She gave him one long, grief stricken glance and then, propping her elbows on the bar, she sunk her head into her hands and began to weep.

Willie looked around the bar, and swore at his predicament. He shifted indecisively from foot to foot. What was he expected to do now? He walked around the bar and stood next to her and gave her a few reassuring pats on her back. He’d never hear the end of it if anyone found out he’d been playing nice to the Slayer.

“There, there, Slayer, can’t be all that bad. What do you have to cry about? I’m the one who’s going broke!”

“Broke…” she sniffled, “Broke…broken…broken heart.” She picked up a cocktail napkin and blew her nose and then started to cry all over again.

“There, there…now who was the big nasty who broke your heart?

“He doesn’t…love me…never…loved me,” she choked out the words.

Willie stared at the grieving woman in disbelief. He gave a short chuckle. “Funny thing Slayer, I heard someone else say those very same words last night. So why don’t you tell me what’s really going on between you and Spike…and then I just might tell you where he lives.”


* * * * *


“Give me ‘nother drink…’kay? Cause don’t think I can…bear to…” She started to tear up again.

Fifteen minutes later, Willie gave her the directions to Spike’s new house.

“Don’t tell him I told you, right? He can be downright vindictive, even with his new little handicap. You gonna be alright walking home?” he asked, surprising himself with his sudden concern for her welfare.

“Oh yeah…need fresh air…and poof…bright and shiny Buffy.”

Buffy stumbled out of the bar and onto the darkened street. She’d been walking aimlessly for about a half hour when she realized she was lost. She turned down a small alley, sat down on the pavement and tried to clear her head. A small plaintive whine came from under an abandoned car parked at the end of the alley.

“Something or someone hurt or lost,” she thought, “Just like me.”

She stood up and crossed the alley. She knelt down next to the car and tried to peer beneath it. The whining grew louder and she realized that a small dog was trapped under the car. She got on her hands and knees and tried to reach under the car to free it. Tied firmly around its neck was a ragged rope which had caught on the chassis.

“Here puppy, good boy, come m’ere baby. I’m won’t hurt you,” she called.


* * * * *


Spike strode on through the night. His thoughts swirled in unrelenting confusion. What was the use of a bloody soul if it couldn’t help him forget her? She didn’t even notice either, damn her. All she could see was his cold, dead, vampire self. And she called herself a Slayer. She only saw what she wanted to see. Always. Her way. Her feelings for him all locked up tighter than…no… no…mustn’t think about tight…firm…her legs wrapped around his waist, forcing his cock deep inside her tight…

“Get the hell out of my brain,” he shouted. He changed directions and strode blindly around a corner and into an alley. He came to a quick halt. His body froze in disbelief at the sight before his eyes.

The Slayer was trying to crawl under a car. It sounded as if she was speaking to someone. The firm curves of her buttocks were revealed to him as her short dress hiked up her hips. She swayed and bounced before him, as she struggled to reach her invisible prey.

“Who’s she tormenting now?” he groaned, trying to still his body’s response to the vision before him.


* * * * *


She finally snapped the rope and, gathering the small dog in her arms, slowly inched backwards. Just as she had almost scooted far enough to get her head out from underneath the car, she bumped into an immovable object.

“Can’t you pick on someone your own size, Slayer?” He bent over and, grabbing her hips in his hands, dragged her out from under the car. He let go of her in surprise when he saw what she held in her arms.

“Vampire dog?” he smirked, “All woof and grr?” He tried not to laugh. “Saving the world from the evil furry ones?”  He began laughing hysterically.

The small dog in Buffy’s arms looked at Spike suspiciously and then gave a surprisingly deep and vicious growl. Spike laughed harder. The dog struggled out of Buffy’s arms and jumped to the ground. It ran over to Spike and bit down on his pant’s leg. Spike tried to shake it off, but the little dog was tenacious. Spike gave a loud growl and the dog cowered, rolling over onto its back, tail wagging.

He bent over and gave the dog’s stomach a little rub, “There, there lil’ sweetheart, should’ve known you were female, all bark and bite at first, but when you recognize a real big bad, you roll over, don’t ya?” he said gently. He stared up at Buffy, “Specially when he rubs your tummy.”

He gathered up the small dog in his arms, still stroking her fur. He whispered, “There, there ma sweet bit, settle down love, da’s got you now.”

Buffy was staring at him, almost hungrily, he thought, and then he noticed the tears gliding silently down her face.

“And are you lost, too, luv?” he said, “What are you doing on this side of town. Way over here on the wrong side of the tracks?”

She took a few unsteady steps toward him.

“Bad!”

“Bad what, luv? Bad dog? Bad Vampire?”

“Big problem…” she started to sway.

“That’s right, luv. You’ve been a big problem ever since we met. Now come m‘ere.”

He grabbed her about the waist with his free arm and held her firmly against his side. Thunder rumbled overhead and a light rain began to fall.

“Not me. You. Very wrong and… smell good…” she buried her face into his coat.

“Bit of party, then?” he said, noticing the smell of alcohol, “All alone?”

“Sick,” she gasped, “No dancing.”

“Not asking you to dance, but I do think we should get you and this little one out of the rain.

With one arm full of ferocious puppy and one arm holding Buffy, who continued to mutter “wrong” “bad” and “problem”, he slowly walked them back toward his house.

“Where are we?” she asked; her head was spinning and she was shivering in her thin dress.

“Home, luv.”

Rigel opened the door before they reached the front gate.

“How lovely,” he called, “Just the guests I was expecting. I’ve got hot baths waiting.”

He took the dog from Spike’s arms.

“Watch out for that dog, Rigel. She took a big chunk out of my pants and she’s a filthy mess,” Spike handed the dog to Rigel.

“Spike, you take the young lady up to the master bath. I’ll take care of Miss Canis…er…Miss Maisa here.”


* * * * *


Spike helped Buffy out of her clothes, trying to modestly look aside as she disrobed. But she needed his help to get into the bath and he was afraid to leave her alone in the water for fear she’d pass out and drown.

He got her settled in the tub. She lay back and stretched out her limbs in the warm water.

“Look,” she cupped a handful of water, raised it above and let it fall over her chest, “This water’s all sparkly. What’s that smell?”

“Smells like lilacs, but it’s the wrong season inna it?” Mesmerized by the sight of the water running down her breasts and across the soft skin of her stomach, he murmured under his breath, “Oh to be a drop of water…”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“Couldn’t leave you out on the street in your condition. All your bleeding friends would be after me if they heard. Besides,” he gestured with the wash cloth, “You’re a filthy mess, climbing all around on the ground under that car in a dress. What were you thinking?”

“She needed help…. all lost…abandoned and…” she fell silent.

He put his hand beneath her knee and slowly raised it out of the water.

“Look here, all scratched up.”

He bent over and gave her knee a soft kiss, “Let me make it better, love.” He looked longingly into her eyes, “Let me make it better…”

“Touch me,” she said.

“What…?”

“Touch me. Here,” she pointed to her stomach, “Wanna be rubbed too.”

He cautiously slipped his hand beneath the warm water and slowly began to caress her skin, as she’d demanded. She closed her eyes and relaxed her head back against the tub.

He moved his hand in a gentle, circular motion. She sighed deeply and settled into his touch. A small smile crossed her face and he could almost hear her purr.

“Spike,” she said, her eyes still closed.

“What is it? Want me to stop?”

“I don’t want anyone to touch me, ‘cept you, okay?”

“That’s right love,” he said in a low, fierce voice, “Only me.”