Chapter Seven
“So what happened then?” Willow’s excited voice squealed so loudly Buffy had to hold the phone away from her ear.
“He wished Dawn a happy birthday, said goodbye and left.”
“That’s it?”
Buffy shrugged, “Yep. I think he didn’t want to intrude on Dawn’s night or something. But I did invite him over to dinner tonight and he said yes.”
“Oh no Buffy, you aren’t cooking are you?” The sudden distressed tone made Buffy roll her eyes.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence Will,” she laughed at her friend. “But it’s this dish Mom used to make and it never looked very difficult so I’m sure it will be fine.”
Silence.
“Willow I’m not going to poison him!”
“No, of course not,” Willow jumped in. “It’s just, well you know, you were never very good in a kitchen. But I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“Yes. Everything will be perfect,” Buffy replied, suddenly not so convinced.
**********
Buffy placed her favourite vase in the centre of the table with a smile. The single yellow rose was the perfect touch. She’d dragged out every good piece of crockery, cutlery and glassware she owned. Her mother’s crystal candle holders, with two long-stemmed white candles, flanked the vase. A jazz CD filtered softly throughout the room.
Glancing at the clock she ducked back into the kitchen to check on the stove. The saucepan of water was boiling rapidly, so she dropped in the spaghetti and then stirred the sizzling bacon.
A slight squeak erupted when the doorbell rang and Buffy rolled her eyes at her own nervousness. Taking a deep breath she glanced down to check her dress and then headed purposefully for the door.
“Good evening Miss Summers.”
The smile he gave her took her breath away and she groaned inwardly as she heard herself giggle. Grow up Buffy! This man is famous. Pulling back her shoulders she tried again. “Good evening Spike. Please come in.”
As he entered he drew his hand from behind his back to reveal a bunch of red roses. “For you.” He told her.
Buffy smiled up at him. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
As he leaned in she let her eyes drift closed as she waited for his kiss. And waited. And waited. Finally she opened her eyes to find him sniffing at the air with a frown. “Is something burning?”
“Oh no,” Buffy exclaimed as she made a dash for the kitchen. Placing the flowers on the counter she turned to the stove and cried out in dismay. The bottom half of the spaghetti was happily cooking in the bubbling water, while the top half had drooped over the side of the pot and turned black.
Cursing, Buffy turned off the burners and dumped the pot into the sink with a disgusted thud.
“Is everything alright pet?”
Red-faced with embarrassment Buffy gave Spike a chagrined look. “Well…umm…no not really. I kind of ruined dinner.”
Coming closer Spike spied the pot of spaghetti and let out a low whistle. “Wow, I didn’t know you could do that to spaghetti.”
“Yeah,” Buffy replied irritably. “I’ve been known to make miracles happen in the kitchen. Just not the edible kind.”
Spike lifted her chin and smiled down into watery green eyes. “Don’t worry love. It happens to the best of us. Doesn’t really matter none.”
“But it does matter,” Buffy cried out in frustration. “I wanted everything to be perfect and this was the one dish I thought I could handle.” Pausing only long enough to take a breath she continued, “You’re William Rafe for goodness sake. You’re probably used to dining in 5-star restaurants with supermodels or something.” Suddenly running out of things to say Buffy fell silent. She cringed inwardly as Spike frowned at her from the other side of the kitchen.
“That’s who you think I am?” he asked quietly.
Buffy sighed, regretting her careless words, and walked closer to him. “No. Not when I’m with you.” She shrugged. “I’ve known you’re name and your face for like three years now, but I’ve only spent a few hours with you. Guess I’m still wrapping my head around the person.” She looked at the floor dejectedly. “I just wanted to impress you.”
Spike smiled at the top of her head. “You already impressed me. That’s why I’m here.”
Buffy couldn’t help but blush at his compliment.
“Here’s the thing,” he said. “Out there in the big, wide world I’m William Rafe. But with you…I just want to be me.”
“Well in that case,” Buffy grinned. “Can I ask you something personal?”
“What would you like to know pet?”
With a quick flick of her wrist Buffy was suddenly holding up a phone. “How do you feel about pizza?”
**********
Several hours later Buffy and Spike were sprawled comfortably on the lounge room floor. Empty pizza boxes had been pushed aside as Spike became engrossed in examining Buffy’s small but eclectic CD collection.
“Really?” Buffy was currently screwing up her nose in a show of mild disgust that Spike found adorable. “Punk rock?”
“Well not only punk rock. But I like it, yeah,” Spike replied defiantly.
Buffy snorted.
“Hey. Anyone that has The Best of Janet Jackson in their CD rack can’t scoff at my taste love.”
A pretty blush flushed her cheeks as she said pointedly, “That was a gift.” Rising off the floor she headed toward the kitchen. “How about some dessert?”
Spike smiled mischievously, “That depends. Did you make it?”
Buffy swung around with a gasp, her hands on her hips. Then, to his complete surprise, she poked her tongue out at him and disappeared into the kitchen.
Spike laughed, even as he felt himself hardening. What he would love to do with that pink, little tongue. Biting back a groan he gulped down the rest of his wine and lay down on his back. Concentrating on the ceiling he tried to will away his aching erection, failing as images of Buffy using her tongue in oh so pleasurable ways flickered in his brain.
“Are you okay?”
Suddenly she was kneeling beside him, a concerned frown marring her beautiful features.
Hoping she hadn’t noted his…err, condition…he sat up and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m better than okay. What have you got there?”
“You have a choice. Choc-Mint. Or Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough.” She shrugged. “I like chocolate.”
“I’ll take the mint.” Accepting the small tub Spike tried to force himself not to stare as she sucked ice cream off her spoon.
“Would you like to try some of this one?” When she nodded he scooped out some of the ice cream and brought it to her mouth, watching avidly as her lips closed around the creamy substance.
Sneaking her spoon into his tub she fed him a spoonful and then, to his delight, she leaned in to lick a stray drop from his lips. Spike groaned in relief at her touch. Moving closer they continued to feed each other, and taste each other, until the last of the melting ice cream was gone.
Setting the cartons aside Spike drew her into his lap for a leisurely kiss. Then, nuzzling her neck, he murmured, “That was the best ice cream I’ve ever had in my life.”
Giggling, Buffy pulled back to rest her forehead against his. “Me too.”
Gazing into her eyes Spike felt his desire for her growing hotter. His fingers danced up and down her arms, hungry for more. The urge to turn her in his lap so he could feel her long legs around him was almost overpowering. Quickly he set her back on the floor and began to stand up. “I should go.”
Disappointment flashed in Buffy’s eyes and she scrambled to her feet, her confusion apparent. “Already? You don’t want to stay for coffee?”
Spike cupped her cheek, his eyes burning into hers. “Love if I don’t go now you might not get rid of me at all.”
“Oh.” Understanding was followed quickly by lust in the flashing green depths of her eyes; but she didn’t reach for him. That told him all he needed to know. She wasn’t ready yet. He wanted her to be ready.
She walked him to the door and for a moment they paused awkwardly in the doorway. “Good night Spike,” Buffy said quietly.
Her lips were slightly swollen from his kisses, her hair tousled from his fingers. In that moment he thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Unable to help himself Spike reached for her again. Drawing her close he captured her mouth in a fierce kiss. Her arms encircled his neck and he groaned. Sliding his hands down to cup her bottom, he pressed her tightly against his aching loins, drinking in her moan of pleasure. Spike knew he was sinking fast and that if he didn’t stop now his eager fingers would soon be searching for the zipper on her dress. Pulling away from her was almost painful. They were both breathing heavily when he took her hands in his, kissing the palms before reluctantly letting her go. “Good night Buffy. Sweet dreams.” Turning to walk toward the lift Spike smiled when he heard her whimper softly at his parting words.
A/N: Yes you can do that with spaghetti because I have done it. Thankfully I'm a better cook now. Please let me know what you think of the story. Happiness and spuffies to all. - flibble
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Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story. For anyone who is actually following as I post (if there is anyone patient enough to do that) an even bigger thank you.