Spike/Mrs.William "Something's Cooking..."

[pepperlandgirl]

“What are you cooking?” He asked as he followed her into the kitchen. She hoped he didn’t plan to stay in the kitchen with her—it was much too small and cramped. But then, the whole house seemed rather confining when he was so close.

“I thought spaghetti would be good. Simple to make, cooks fast. Unless you want something else?”

“No, no, that’s fine.”

Buffy grabbed the large pot and filled it with water. She went through the motions of preparing the meal as though it really mattered, as though he wasn’t standing right behind her, watching her intently, his body tense—ready for flight. She concentrated on frying the bits of hamburger for the sauce as though it was the most important task she had ever performed. Now that he was in the house, she didn’t know what to do.

“What have you been doing since graduation?”

She shrugged. “Hanging out. Just relaxing and recharging my batteries. The past month has been…exhausting.”

“You going to get a job for the summer?”

“I don’t have anything better to do. Though I guess I could just be a lady of leisure for the summer. That would be nice too.”

“You could do that,” he agreed. “Might be a nice break for you.”

“Well, whatever I do, I better decide quickly. All the good jobs are probably taken for the summer. Will you be keeping the car?”

“Why?”

“I figure I better go get myself something…I can’t be dependent on you for transportation. Especially if I have a job.”

“We can go tomorrow, if you like,” he said casually, as though it was the most logical suggestion ever.

“We? You want to come with me?”

Spike shrugged, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I mean, if you want me to come…I know there are places that think they can take advantage of women…”

“You think someone would take advantage of me?”

Spike winced as though he had been slapped. “No, I didn’t mean that…”
“Spike, it’s cool. If you want to come and glare at them over my shoulder, I’m all for it.”

“Never mind…”

“No, you said you would. I’m holding you to it.” Her tone and face dared him to defy her.

“Thinking new or used?”

“Used. Cash.”

“Any type of car in mind?”

Buffy shook her head. “No, not really. I just need something with four wheels and an engine.”

“That’s no way to shop for a car, Buffy.”

“I know better than to pick up a lime.”

“Lemon, and I think you’re underestimating the sleaziness of used car dealers.”

Buffy frowned as she poured the pasta into the boiling water, and then stirred the sauce. With some surprise Spike realized he hadn’t had anything to eat in nearly two days. Suddenly ravenous, he began pawing through the cupboards looking for…something.

“Dinner is going to be done in like five minutes. Can’t you wait?”

“No. What happened to those cookies?”

“I finished them two weeks ago.”

“You didn’t buy more?”

“Somehow cookies haven’t been high on my priority list.”

“Well, what else do you have?”

“If you can wait three minutes, a big pot of pasta.”

“I’m starving,” he mumbled as tore into a bag of chips.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Breakfast, yesterday. I think Giles had an extra bagel. I just kinda forgot after that.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Maybe it’s a good thing then that I tricked you into coming over.”
“If you have any garlic bread, I’ll forgive you.”

“No garlic bread, but I have potato rolls.”

“You can’t eat potato rolls with pasta, Buffy.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“For someone who’s starving, you’re sure picky. Sit your ass down.”

“Why?”

“You’re in my way.”

He reached over her shoulder and plucked a hunk of hamburger right out of the simmering sauce. “That hurt,” he said, licking his now slightly burnt finger.

“What did you think was going to happen? Was it worth it?”

“The sauce is great.”

“It’s my secret recipe.”

“Hmm, let me see if I remember that one. ‘Open bottle of Ragu and pour into pan’?”

“It’s not Ragu,” she informed him. “It’s the store brand. But hey, I added meat.”

“Very inventive of you. You should be on the Food Channel.”

“Wise ass. Come on, move, I need to drain the pasta.” While her back was turned, he grabbed a roll and dipped it into the sauce. She turned around just in time to catch him munching on it. “Will you sit down?”

“No…Buffy, look out.”

“What?”

She wasn’t paying attention where she was putting the pan, and her hand hit the burner—it was still red hot. She pulled back quickly, losing her grip on the pan and the pasta splattered across the floor. She didn’t even look at that though, she was too distracted by the angry, red burn making her entire arm throb.

“Shit…” Spike muttered as he grabbed her arm and dragged her over to the sink, thrusting her hand under cold water. She jumped and tried to pull back, but he didn’t loosen his grip. “Hold still, Buffy, this will help.”

“I’m such a klutz.”

“No you’re not. Is the water helping?”

“It already feels better.”

“You keep your hand here, I’m going to go get the aloe ointment, ok?”

She nodded. He was back in less than a minute with the ointment and a clean towel. He took her hand again and dried it, careful not aggravate the burn. It was actually rather small and was really only a dull ache, but she wasn’t going to stop him from taking care of it.

When he was done drying her and had applied the aloe, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “Better?”

“Much. Sorry about dinner…”

“It’s ok.”

“Let me clean up this mess.”

It didn’t take long for the two of them to get all the pasta off the floor and into the garbage. “I can try again,” she offered.

“No, it’s ok, I have to go.”

“What? Why?”

He smiled slightly. “Giles wants to work on some stuff tonight. He wants to get an early start…In fact, he’s probably waiting.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t help but let her disappointment show.

“Hey, I’ll come by tomorrow morning, yeah?”

She nodded. “I’ll see you then.”

“Have a good night, Buffy.”