[Reviews - 31]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 4202 times

- Text Size +




Chapter 13

Buffy stared at the phone as if she'd never seen one before. It was ringing. That meant she had to answer it. All day she'd waited, waited some more and was just getting to the bit where you start replaying all the conversations in your head. Had he really said this, had he meant that? Had she dreamed it all? And now that could be him.

She picked it up with trembling hands, and hit the green button. If he'd phoned earlier, she would have flown to it, grabbed it off it's cradle and jammed it to her ear. But she'd had too long to think. About the possibilities. Of what? Of him not coming back, not finishing with Dru. Realising he'd been foolish? She pressed it carefully to her ear. It might not be him at all. Please let it be.

"Spike?" He knees went a little wobbly as she heard his voice. A whole day's worth of tension released at the same time. As he spoke, all she could think of was that it was okay, it was okay. The words went over and over in her head, as he spoke, told her how to find his flat. He wanted to see her. And she wanted to see him so much. The way you do at the start of a new relationship. When you haven't quite convinced yourself that it's real yet. A new future? She reigned in those galloping feelings. Too soon to tell, but it held such possibilities. Little by little she was breaking free of her old life. Finding out who she really was. Granted, she still lived the luxury life-style, so she was cheating a little, but hey, Rome wasn't built in a day.

Once it had sunk in that what she'd been waiting for all day had finally happened, she went into overdrive, rushing upstairs like a lunatic, flinging the contents of her wardrobe on the floor, brushing her teeth, checking her make-up. He deserved a bit more that workout -Buffy, after what he'd done for her. She overdid the perfume and had to rush back to the bathroom, coughing, and wash some off. Only one earring. Hell, where had it gone? Which shoes? Was she walking or taking the car? Then she was standing at the front door, locking it behind her.

As she walked out of her exclusive housing estate she thought of her father. He'd have a fit if he saw her now, walking, unescorted, at night. He'd have sent her in the chauffeured Limo. She giggled to herself as she imagined the conversation. Darling, Johnson will be waiting outside while you have sex with your lover. Take your time, I won't be needing him tonight. Of course, her dad would never say such a thing. Not about the sex, anyway.

Then why had she thought of it? Is that where she was going, to have sex with her lover? Yesterday she'd been having all sorts of fantasies about it, but that was okay because she knew they wouldn't. Spike's sense of honour had seen to that. But now? There was nothing to stop them, and she was suddenly really nervous about it. Weird, mixed up feelings. That was love for you.

And there he was coming towards her. Cocky walk, black coat swinging, shocking hair, beautiful smile. Hers.

He opened his arms as she ran towards him, and lifted her off the ground. Swung her round, staggered a bit as he put her down. Grinned sheepishly as he held his head.

Buffy looked at him, concerned. "You okay Spike?"

"Yes and no. Had a disagreement with a bottle of bourbon. Better for seeing you though." He gave her a swift kiss on the lips and took her hand. "Come on, I'll show you how the other half live."

When they got to his flat, he led her down the stone steps and unlocked the door, pushing it open for her. "Bit of a mess, I'm afraid. Must have a word with the housekeeper. Throw your coat over there, I'll make us a drink."

So this was where Spike lived. One sofa, an old armchair, a table stacked with books and papers. Shelves, with more books. The obligatory TV and stereo. Cd's scattered on the floor. Buffy stood, soaking it in. Trying to get a feel for the place. This was Spike, and probably a bit of Dru too, she realised. But it felt just right for Spike. She somehow knew that he wouldn't be interested in material things. He walked back into the room and caught her staring at his stuff.

Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"What are you thinking, Buff?"

She leaned back into him, running a finger along his bare forearm. "I was thinking that all of this would fit into the foyer of the house back home."

"And that matters?"

"No, no, of course not. I just don't want you to think it does."

"I don't." He turned her to face him. "What's brought this on then?"

"I don't know, sometimes I feel like such a spoilt brat. I thought I was being so grown up, leaving America...I'm still just playing at it really."

"Hey now." He led her to the armchair, sat down and pulled her down on his lap. She settled against his chest, hoping she hadn't offended him with her comment. It didn't matter one bit that the flat was small and scruffy. But it did bring home to her just how lacking in independence she really was. Daddy was still controlling her and she was still letting him. He hadn't even asked her if she'd wanted that stupid sports car. And she hadn't questioned it being there. It was no less than she expected.

"Buffy, money is something you have or you don't. If you do, great. If you don't, not so great. You don't have to feel guilty for being rich. I'd want you whatever. You do know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know." She lifted her head and studied his face. He really had the most expressive eyes. Right now they were shining with a simple tenderness and understanding. The way he looked at her, so open and honest. His hand was caressing her back, soothing her, letting her know it was safe for her to be opening up like this.

"Bit weird isn't it? Starting a new relationship. All raging hormones and physical attraction. Then finding out there's a person behind it all, someone you don't know very well. But every time you're with them you learn a little more about them. That's the fun bit, right ? Don't get me wrong Buffy, I am after you for your luscious little body, but I want to know what goes on in here too." He smoothed his hand over her hair, then trailed it down the side of her neck, stopping and flattening his palm over her heart. "And in here. Everything."

Buffy was mesmerised. The things he said, the way he talked. She'd never gone out with a poet before. Never realised quite how sexy the spoken word could be. That little bit of huskiness that crept into his voice when he was being intense. It went straight to the core of her. There was no need to say anything. She leaned in and kissed him, pulling back to see how she was doing, leaned in again when she saw that she was very obviously doing okay.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, intensity slowly building, hands exploring until they both needed a breather. Spike flopped his head back against the chair.

"Do you know how good you are at that? You kiss like an angel."

"And how many girls have you impressed with that line?"" He looked tired, Buffy thought, and more than a little hung-over. Just how much had he had to drink?

"Just thought of it. So none. But I saw one once."

"When?" she settled against him, thinking how nice it was just to talk.

"Week or so back, in a car park. Some guy whacked me with a bloody champagne bottle. Got rescued by an angel." His expression turned a bit more serious. "Haven't been the same since."

Neither have I, she thought, ridiculously pleased at the compliment. "How did it go with Dru today?" She'd almost been too afraid to ask, but she needed to know.

"Not sure really. Hard to tell with Dru."

"Oh." She didn't want to push it, but he wasn't telling her what she wanted to hear.

He seemed to realise it. "It's finished Buffy, don't worry about that. We said we'd do this properly, didn't we? Now, how about that cuppa I promised you?"

He was doing it again, changing the subject. He was good at that. And she let him. He'd tell her about Dru in his own good time. The important thing was that she was here, now, with him, and that was what she wanted more than anything in the world.


--------------------------------------------




Willow was feeling very pleased with herself indeed. And, judging from the look on his face, so was Xander. "I guess this makes me all growed up," she said, drawing circles with her finger on his chest. Then she sat up, pulling the sheet with her and looked serious for a moment. "That was amazing Xander, thank you. Do you think we could..."

"Do it again?" Xander lifted the sheet and looked under it. "There's a distinct possibility. Do that thing again."

Willow let the sheet fall and leaned towards him, her tongue slowly sweeping across her bottom lip. "What, this?"

"Yep, that's the one." He lifted the sheet again. "Thunderbirds are definitely go." Willow collapsed onto his chest in a fit of giggles. She had no idea what he was talking about, but he made her laugh all the same. And he'd almost made her cry when they'd made love, it had been so perfect. I've come halfway round the world to meet the man of my dreams, she thought. And I'm not wasting a precious moment of it.

He'd brought out a Willow that no-one knew existed. She hadn't even known it herself. Yet here she was, feeling all satisfied, and womanly, and very horny. If anyone had mentioned that last one in the same sentence as her name, she would have turned bright red and run a mile but here she was, in bed with her lover, propositioning him even. Getting all kinds of interesting responses. Thinking all sort of very strange and naughty thoughts. Wondering what he'd look like in a Batman costume. Wondering if he'd ever made love outdoors. In his car?

She lifted her head and did the tongue thing again, and he rolled her over onto her back, coming down on top of her with a groan. He let her go for one moment while he grabbed a condom off the bedside table, and then she had nothing else to think about but the wonderful thing they were doing, right there and then.


-------------------------------------




Spike fished the tea-bags out of the mugs and threw them in the sink. His headache was really getting into gear now, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to stay awake much longer, but he didn't want Buffy to go. Grabbing a packet of cookies and tucking them under his arm, he made his way back to the room. She was browsing his considerable book collection, and she turned as she heard him return.

"Liked your poem. Have you had many published?"

He handed her the mug, dropping the cookies on the chair. "A few. You?"

"One. Competition win. That was the prize, you know, getting published." She took the mug, then pointed to the cookies. "Can I? Haven't eaten much today."

"Oh," Spike handed her the packet and pointed to the kitchen. "I could make you something. As long as you like baked beans that is."

"No, the cookies will be fine." She took one and he watched her as she ate it. It was getting late and they were both tired, and they'd suddenly reached that awkward bit of the evening. The 'are you coming in for coffee' moment that was code- for- something- else. The words of a song popped into his head, should I stay or should I go? Would she stay? He desperately wanted her to, but he didn't want to frighten her by coming on too strong.

The silence stretched between them as they sipped at their drinks, the air heavy with expectation. She was looking at him, over the top of her cup, with those gorgeous eyes of hers. It was definitely his call. She couldn't very well invite herself, could she?

He put down his cup and walked the few steps towards her. Taking the cup out of her hand, he put it down on the table and took both of her hands in his. "Buffy, stay with me tonight."

She looked a little startled, he thought. Had she really not been expecting him to say that? He quickly qualified it. "Just to sleep, I'm not up to much else at the moment." He let his hands slide up her arms to her shoulders. "Be nice to wake up with you tomorrow morning."

She hadn't taken her eyes off him. And they seemed to be growing larger by the minute. "I don't have any stuff with me." Her voice almost wasn't there.

"I'll lend you a tee-shirt." He nodded encouragement.

"Yes Spike, I'll stay."

She looked away as she said it, almost as if she were gathering her courage, but when she looked back up at him she was giving him such a slow, sexy smile that it sent his pulse racing. And he found that despite his massive headache and desperate need for sleep, a certain part of his anatomy was definitely getting other ideas.


------------------------------------------------




Buffy's heart was doing funny things too. The samba, the waltz and now the tango. It was hard to breathe when it couldn't make up it's mind how to beat. "I get to choose the Tee-shirt, right?"

"Yeah, as long as you like black or white." Spike gave her shoulders a quick squeeze. "Go through. I'll lock up."

Buffy picked up her purse and went through to the bedroom. It was sparsely furnished too - just a bed, a wardrobe and a bedside cupboard. A small wooden chair strewn with clothes. It should have felt bare and strange, but it felt - cosy. She flicked on the bedside light, picked the quilt up from the floor, and arranged it on the bed. Then she opened the wardrobe, wondering where he kept his tee-shirts. Looking at his clothes like this gave her a strangely voyeuristic thrill. Clothes were sexy, yes - when they were on the person, but Spike's managed to be sexy on hangers, and folded on shelves. She couldn't see any tee-shirts so she took out the blue shirt that she'd seen him wearing in the library. Another little fantasy of hers, wearing men's shirts. God, they were all coming true at once.

He hadn't come into the bedroom yet, and she realised that he was probably giving her some privacy, so she quickly stripped off her clothes, leaving on her panties, and slid the shirt over her head. It covered her quite decently, except that the sleeves were much too long so she turned them back and started to fold her clothes in a neat pile.

"It looks nicer on you."

He was standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets. Watching her. How long had he been there? And why did she keep going all shy when he looked at her like that? They'd kissed. Passionately. He'd touched her, she'd touched him. But every time they were apart, for even a few moments, she felt as if she was starting again. Maybe it was that she just couldn't believe that she'd got this far, so soon. In his bedroom, wearing his clothes. It was strangely surreal and wickedly exciting.

"Bathroom's free." He walked over to the bed, stripping off his tee-shirt as he went. Stopping when he saw her looking, turning round to give her a better view.

And she looked. Who wouldn't want to look at that? Strength and beauty. Power and grace. All in one, perfect package. His hands went to his fly and she whirled round and fled to the bathroom. She used the toothbrush on the sink. It was probably his. Then she padded back to the bedroom. He was already in bed. He switched off the side light as she slipped in beside him and reached over to pull her close. She wriggled until she was comfy and he brought his other arm around her. Nearly - naked Spike with his rough, hairy legs tangled in her satin - smooth ones. Hard muscles. His breath in her hair. Another step in their relationship, she thought. There was so much to learn. His breathing steadied as he relaxed, but she couldn't get hers under control. It was enough just for now, lying here with him, but her mind was racing all over the place. What was he really like? Would her dad like him? Did he snore?

Then he spoke.

"Buffy, would you do something for me?"

A little tingling started up in the pit of her stomach. He didn't move, and neither did she. "Anything Spike. Just tell me what you want." And she meant it. She felt as if she was hovering at the edge of a cliff. He only had to say the word, and she'd jump.

"Get rid of that car of yours."

"Oh." Not what she was expecting.

He shifted himself to face her. "Yeah, gotta worry about you, out in that thing."

"You do?"

"Yeah."

"That's nice - you worrying about me."

"But?"

"But what?" She snuggled back into him, glad that he couldn't see her face. "Not exactly what I thought you were going to say, that."

"Ahh, sorry love, am I a big disappointment tonight?"

"No, Spike, you're... you're, more than I'd ever dreamed of." She lifted her head and tried to make out his features in the darkness. "It's just that I'm so new at all this. Do you know what I'm trying to say?"

"Yeah. S'why I figured we'd go kinda slow. That, and this monster headache." He laughed. "Never thought I'd hear myself use that excuse. But never, ever think it's 'cause I don't want you, 'cause I do. Thought you might like to set the pace is all."

Buffy felt herself relaxing properly for the first time that evening. "I like the sound of that. Do you have, umm, any special requests?"

"You still got that leather top?"

"Yeah."

He cleared his throat. "And the stockings?"

"Many pairs."

"Then hold that thought Buff."

It wasn't fair. How was she going to sleep after what he'd said? And, could he be more perfect? Suddenly all the nervousness was gone, replaced by a warm, content feeling.

"Thank you Spike."

"My pleasure."

"I sure hope so," she thought as she finally drifted off to sleep. "I sure hope so."





You must login (register) to review.