Gods And Monsters

Chapter Eighty:

Shortly after they escaped yet another one of Buffy's speeches, their peace and quiet was disturbed by Andrew scampering down the basement stairs. He asked if he could include Spike in his little film, and Spike, reluctantly, agreed.

Removing the cigarette from between his lips, Spike turned around and spotted Andrew videotaping him. "I thought I told you to piss off with this bloody camera!" He yelled at him. "Yet, here you are again with that thing in my face. Would you sod off—" he flicked his cigarette butt at Andrew, "before I rip your throat out and eat—"

"Okay, Spike, the light was kind of behind you." Andrew interrupted.

Spike glanced around himself for a moment. "Oh, right. Uh, what? Is this better then?" He asked, repositioning himself. " With the go-ahead from Andrew, Spike started over for, the beginning: "I thought I told you to piss off with this bloody camera, yet here you are again with that thing in my face. Would you sod off?"

Hel stood behind Andrew, her arms folded across her chest and an amused smirk on her lips.

Spike caught her gaze, smiling sheepishly.

"Okay, I think we've got it." Andrew declared, lowering the camera. "Thanks, Spike." He gushed, beaming up at him.

"Yeah, whatever." Spike strode past him dismissively, over to the staircase. "Now, seriously, sod off."

Hel uncrossed her arms and shoved her hands into the front pockets of her rolled-up jeans. She crossed the room, the cement floor cool beneath her bare feet, and followed Spike up the steps.

"Yes, sir!" Andrew called after him, raising his hand to his forehead in a salute.

Upon reaching the landing at the top of the stairs, he glanced over his shoulder at her and arched an eyebrow. "Sir."

Once they were in the kitchen, he turned around and took a step closer to her. He tilted his head slightly to one side, and a suggestive smirk crept across his lips as he slid a hand onto the curvature of her hip. "Why don't you ever call me sir?" Spike asked her, in that irresistible, gravelly tone of his that she loved.

"Because you're not the boss." She stated matter-of-factly, crossing her arms. "I am."

"Is that so?" He rasped softly, his low voice taking on a sensual quality.

"Oh, definitely." She crooned, smiling smugly up at him.

Without another word on the matter, Hel manoeuvred around him and strolled into the dining room. Spike was close behind her.

She pulled out a chair, taking a seat at the nearest end of the table.

He sat down directly across from her. "So, I'm curious. I've seen that little magic trick with the flame— but is there anything else you can do?" 

Resting her elbows on the table, she leaned in closer. "Any requests?"

He mirrored her forward inclination. "Surprise me." 

Her eyes shone with mischief, and pushed out her chair to stand. "Like this?"

A ripple of luminescence materialised, gradually rolling down her in waves. Her hair lightened, from blackest ebony to a rich chestnut brown with honey-blonde highlights, and shortened by a few inches. Her black, long-sleeved T-shirt was swapped for a white white V-neck with short sleeves. Before his very eyes, her irises also changed colour— from one moonstone silver and one emerald green to identical shades of bright hazel.