As rough as a gig as Slaying was, Buffy had to admit it was a hell of a way to get your cardio in. A few minutes ago she had spotted a girl about her age being dragged out of the Bronze, presumably to an inaudible vampire dinner bell, one thing had led to the next, and now Buffy was right in the middle of her nightly work out. Usually she tried to keep the fights short; it felt way too much like asking for trouble not to end it where she could. But once in awhile she gave a vamp a few extra minutes of non-life. A few extra minutes of pounding, but hey, they got the honor of having her try some new moves.
"Didn't Daddy Watcher ever tell you not to play with your kill?" She felt him before she saw or heard him, Slayer senses were another job perk, but…show more content… I see Angelus has at least been teaching you something then." A still-bloody-from-his-last-kill tongue wet pale lips curved into a wicked grin as he saw he found this bundles' hot button. It figured that his ponce of a souled grandsire would do the slow-burn tortured lovers' abstinence with the probably-virgin Slayer over showing her slow-burn physical romance even if they both wanted it. He could practically hear their strained voices saying 'shouldn'ts' and 'can'ts' and fighting lust for some sodding imaginary virtue. They deserved eachother, he gave them that.
"You're a pig, Spike." Buffy knew Angel and her were... What was she doing? Being bothered by Spike? As if. She hadn't hit him yet, but felt her body anticipating how good it'd feel to kick his ass tonight.
"Ain't caught the spit yet, Slayer, gonna oink some more I think. Say, where is your souled honey tonight, love? Don't you two keep regularly scheduled moon-eye making hours or something?" He barely saw her quick fist flash before it hit him, once, twice- he caught it before it had the chance to connect with his face a third time. This Slayer was just chock full of hot buttons, he enjoyed brushing over them every time. Even when it