Day 3 Bakery!AU/Buffy the Vampire Slayer Crossover Darcy/Tony Rated M
Day 3
Bakery AU- Buffy the Vampire Slayer Crossover
Darcy/Tony
Rated M
New York City, Present Day
“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! Jesus, man what’s on that cotton ball o’ pain? Hydrochloric Acid?”
“You would think being a—what did you call yourself again?”
“Slayer. I’m a slayer, how hard is that to remember?”
“You would think being a ‘slayer’ would give you a higher pain tolerance then, say, a two-year old.”
“Shut the fuck up! Being a slayer doesn’t make me invincible, okay. The thing you should know about us slayers- I may be stronger, and faster, and have more endurance then the average Joe, not to mention an incredible sense of balance, and an increased metabolism, and accelerated healing… Okay so I’m pretty much a female Wolverine, but I can still get hurt, obviously. I still feel pain and stuff.”
“And you don’t feel like you owe it to your slayer image to at least act tough in front of the perfect stranger who is helping you clean up this itty-bitty cut on your forehead? And it’s hydrogen peroxide, by the way. It’s a base, not an acid. Now, hold still…”
Darcy limited her scowl as the guy dabbed at her brow with the cotton ball and then blew on the bubbling slash to help alleviate the pain, but only because scowling just made her face hurt more at the moment. When that was done, he dried the area with a clean cotton ball and then carefully applied a butterfly bandage to hold the edges of the cut together.
“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
She pouted and rolled her eyes, a tricky combination she managed only after years of practice and dedication to the art of sass.
“Well, it wasn’t a free trip to Disneyland. And, for the record, I feel you should know I am a strong, female character because of my flaws and weaknesses, not in spite of them.”
“Strong female character, huh?” The guy’s lips twitched underneath his goatee and she decided to cut him some slack, if for no other reason than he had actually been pretty gentle patching her up. She’d certainly had worse.
“Yep,” she said with a pop of her “p” and gave him a shit eating grin. “So I guess your morning is going a little differently than you’d planned, huh?”
“You mean, when my alarm went off at 1:45 this morning, did I foresee ending up patching up such a strong female character in my kitchen because she was injured while saving my life, after I foolishly attempted to rescue her from a facially deformed thug who was doing his best Dracula impression, by thrusting a wooden stake into the chest of the aforementioned thug and thereby turning him into a highly unsavory pile of dust and ash? Strangely enough, that was not in my horoscope, no, although I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been hoping to see you. You usually come by a little later, though, after I open at six.”
Darcy raised a surprised eyebrow but he ignored her and continued chatting away as he washed his hands and went back to cutting out doughnut-shaped doughy circles with a cookie cutter looking thing on the counter next to where she was sitting.
“You know the drill. You pop your head in just long enough to take a big whiff of my hard working pastry genius and then dash off again without ever buying a thing. It’s pretty rude, you know, but I suppose I’ll have to forgive you. See above, the bit about life saving.”
She smirked at him, enjoying the way he spoke, long run on sentences and punctuating hand gestures that never seemed to slow the pace of his work. “Yeah, well, that’s because, while I am an awesome slayer, and very good at what I do, it doesn’t exactly pay the bills. So, I can’t afford any of your fancy pastry things.”
“Then why come in at all? It seems like an act of self-flagellation, coming in her to smell all the goodies if you know you can’t have any. You a masochist type? You like being tied up and blind-folded and treated to a little of the old slap and tickle, do ya?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively and she just kept right on grinning at him.
“Nothing like that,” she answered eventually. “I usually end my patrol near here, and after a long night of dusting vamps, I like to clear my head a bit, and your place always smells so good. It kinda, sorta, maybe helps me calm down after a fight so… I didn’t think you’d mind that much, honestly.”
“So, basically, you come in here to get the stink o' undead out of your nose, is that correct?” He squished his face into a disgusted grimace of epic proportions. “That’s so much less awesome than I had imagined. Here I was, telling all my friends that 6:05 girl thought I was so sexy that she couldn’t resist seeing me, but was just too shy to actually come all the way in and say hi.”
She feels her face begin to ache from all the smiling, but she can’t seem to help it. “You think pretty highly of yourself, I can tell. But me being shy? No way. Anyone who’s actually met me will tell you I have the opposite problem.”
He glances at her from the corner of his eyes before flicking flour from his fingertips in her direction. “Well, I wanted to meet you, but you just kept leaving as soon as you got here.”
“Really?” Darcy drawled, part predatory and part sultry. “It’s a shame it took a vampire trying to make my skull one with your dumpster to bring us together, cause that shit seriously hurts.” She wiped her hand against her only semi-stained jeans and stretched it his way. “Darcy Lewis, Purveyor of Sarcasm and Snark, Student of Political Science, and Vampire Slayer Extortionate, at your service.”
He didn’t even bother wiping off his hand as he clasped it in hers and she could feel the silky grains grinding between their palms. “Tony Stark, Culinary Genius, Perpetual Bachelor, and Owner of this Fine Baking Establishment. Nice to finally meet you, Darcy Lewis.”
“Now what?” she asked, reluctant to lose the warm feel of his fingers around hers. She’d be lying if she denied he was the reason she always used this bakery for her end of patrol ritual instead of the one a block from her apartment.
“You tell me,” he replied, not in any rush to reclaim his hand.
She looked down at their clasped hands and then back up at him through her lashes. “Well, Tony, the other thing you should know about us slayers-“ she paused for effect and then gave him her most wicked smolder, “After a fight, I always suffer from the 2H’s.”
His eyebrows shot up. “2H’s? Color me intrigued.”
“Yeah, the 2H’s, you know, hungry and uh-“ Darcy might have let her eyes drop to his apron covered crotch at that point, just for a second.
“Really?” He said in a fair imitation of her tone from moments before. “I think you’ve come to the right place, then.”
She bit her lip and let her gaze brush over his smirking lips. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yep,” he copied her popped “p” precisely. “Just let me get these bad boys in the oven and we’ll get you settled.” He laughed, pulling away and sweeping a backing sheet out from one of the cubbies under the counter.
Darcy’s blue eyes narrowed and her full lips pursed in disappointment. “I already told you I can’t afford your fancy, high priced-“
“No, no,” he interrupted, his hands moving with practiced ease. “On the house. I insist.”
She shrugged and did as Darcy always did. She rolled with it. “Cool. I never say no to free food.”
With the dough arranged expertly on the tray, he turned his back and slid it into the industrial sized over in the far wall. Then, as he turned back, he untied his apron and tossed it onto the island before moving back to stand right in front of her.
He pushed between her knees and reached his arms around her-
Darcy let slip an involuntary gasp and her spine straightened in reflex.
Alas, he was only going for the egg timer behind her. He shot her a knowing smirk as he set it. “They do take a while to cook, though.”
“Hm…” she hummed noncommittally, her eyes drifting half closed. The heat from his body, so close between her thighs, and the smell of him, like soap and yeast and sugar sweet glaze, was making her a little dizzy. Dizzy, and wet.
“Aaaaaaand while we wait, I suppose we could do something about that second H.”
Darcy’s eyes snapped to his, wide with surprise and interest. “Hm?” she hummed for a second time, the end of it lilting up into a question this time.
“Hm,” he confirmed and brought his lips to hers, finally.
He tasted of mint and almond and she moaned quietly in delight as she melted against him like the frosting drizzle he put on the cinnamon rolls he sold every Monday.
Tony’s hands left ghostly white prints on her back and side and hips as he caressed and kneaded her curves. Darcy locked her ankles behind his knees and held him pressed in tight to her warm gooey center. Her hands went over his shoulders and into his thick dark hair.
It was a pretty good first kiss, as far as first kisses went. They shared a good rhythm with the press and yield of their lips, and they kept the tongue work light and flirty. The best part, though, was the underlying promise the kiss held of something more. It was something dark, yet delicate and decadent. It was the chocolate covered cream puff of kisses.
Darcy always had had the worst sweet tooth and Tony, well Tony owned and operated a dessert pastry shop. She didn’t think he needed any more explanation then that.
She tipped her chin up and arched her back and worked at getting the friction of their jeans just right as he trailed kisses down her throat to her collar bone, leaving contrasting sensations from his firm, slightly chapped lips and his silky smooth goatee.
Her nails scrapped carefully through his hair, against his scalp and he nipped and sucked and nibbled all the best spots of her décolletage.
Slaying always got her libido up and growling, from 0 to 60 in nothing flat, and she delighted in having found someone to help her tame the beast with this time. She was so worked up that a few minutes of necking and grinding and she was shaking in his arms, right on the edge of release. Still, she knew she would need just a little something more to get her there.
“Fuck-“ she hissed, leaning back slightly to work a different angle. “I need-“
“What do you need,” he whispered against her ear as he rocked the hardness in his pants against her a little harder, a little rougher.
She panted and kissed the top of his shoulder, rolling her hips in a delicious circle. “Yes- ‘m so close,” she purred. “That’s it…”
His right hand went to the counter top behind her to help with leverage, and his left moved to her right breast, cupping her firmly, but gently and his thumb was brushing her nipple, peaked and hard through her bra and shirt and she was coming.
With a cry and a shudder she held him close until, finally, it passed and she relaxed in his arms.
Her breathing was just returning to normal when the egg timer beside her dinged.
In unison they both started laughing, shaking together as they tried to keep things from degenerating into incoherent giggling. Once things were under control between them he pulled his face from the curve of her neck and gave her a resigned smile. “I have to get those,” he admitted as he withdrew and headed for the oven.
She smiled at the funny little limp in his step as he tried, (and failed) to adjust his erection with subtlety. “Need a hand?” she inquired, leaning more heavily then was probably necessary on the innuendo.
He smirked at her over his shoulder as he donned oven mitts and pulled open the big stainless steel door. “Have you taken the Food Protection Course?”
“Uh….”
Note to self, Darcy thought, Tony takes Osha very seriously.
“Tell you what,” he said, moving the baked goods to a line of cooling racks, “I haven’t had a day off in forever. I’ll slip the 'Gone Fish'n' sign on the door, frost these puppies and put them in a doughnuts-to-go box, and then we can take them somewhere where sanitation is less of a thing. We can eat, maybe get cleaned up, and then work on getting dirty all over again, what do you say?”
With a laugh, Darcy jumped down from the counter and sauntered over to swipe a still-cooling ring of baked perfection.
“You had me at doughnuts-to-go box.”