“A holiday party?” Fred repeated, watching as Buffy searched through the piles of clothes on her floor.
“Yep, and I have nothing, absolutely nothing to wear,” the blonde whined and flopped back on her bed.
“What about buying something new?” Fred suggested, toying with Mr. Gordo.
Buffy turned her head, and gave Fred a look. “I’m still paying for the last something new.” With a sigh, she straightened, staring down at the mess. “I’m screwed.”
Fred stood up, walking over to the near empty closet. Her long wavy hair fell down her back against her slight frame. She reached up and tugged a lone dress of its hook. “What about this?”
The dress was low cut, which was why it had remained in the closet, but in the light, Buffy saw that it was cherry red, silky and long enough to hit just at her knee-a respectable enough length.
“Is it too…sexy? I don’t wanna scream at my mom’s holiday party: ‘Look at me! I’m Slutty Buffy!’”
The brunette let out a small laugh. “You won’t. Besides, it’s festive.”
Nibbling on her bottom lip, Buffy stood up, taking the dress from Fred. “Do you think…” she trailed off, touching the fabric.
“What?” Fred urged curiously.
Turning almost shy, Buffy mumbled, “Nothing. It’s great. Plus, my mom thinks all of her buyer’s have the cutest, nicest sons, so I’ll impress them too.”
“Buffy.” At the tone of Fred’s voice, Buffy’s shoulders slumped.
“I was wondering…do you think…Spike’ll like it?” She murmured the last three words quietly.
Giggling, Fred gently shoved the blonde. “Duh.”
A small grin broke out on Buffy’s face. “Yeah, I know. He wouldn’t even care if I showed up naked.”
Fred’s grin widened. “I bet he’d definitely notice,” she said teasingly, and Buffy swatted her.
“Shut up,” she replied. A pinkish color blossomed on her cheeks. Buffy wasn’t really a blushing kind of girl—well, normally.
Buffy stood in front of the mirror, holding the dress up to her frame. The small grin reappeared. “I like it.”
*******************
“Fuck,” Buffy swore as the small backing of her earring slipped out of her grip. Tugging her dress up, she bent over, feeling the carpeting for the metal piece. She kept a firm grip on the gold dewdrops and single backing, and seconds later, successfully located the missing one.
After slipping both earrings in, Buffy glanced at her reflection, touching her glossed lips briefly. They shimmered a reddish color, matching her dress, which flowed prettily to her just-shaved knees. Black heels finished the outfit, exposing her matching red toenails.
“Summers!” She heard Spike practically bellow from the bottom the stairs. “We’re leaving!”
She refused to get annoyed and just smirked deviously, knowing her hard work would pay off when Spike saw her. Fred was right; Spike would definitely appreciate the red dress.
Grabbing her small clutch, Buffy flung open her bedroom door. “I’m coming!” She yelled back, making her way down the stairs.
At the bottom, a fidgeting Spike stood, tugging at his collar with a scowl. His platinum hair was slicked back, contrasting with his dark suit. Hot pretty much summed up Buffy’s reaction.
“Hey,” she said, almost softly.
Spike glanced up briefly, and did a double take. His gaze fixated on the sloping plunge of her neckline to her naked, golden legs. “You a…” he found himself speechless.
“Thanks,” Buffy replied, hinting sarcasm.
Spike’s eyes snapped up to hers. “You look beautiful, luv.” His words were a whisper as he leaned close, leaving a soft, lingering kiss on her lips.
“Buffy? William?” The pair jumped apart as Joyce hurried into the foyer. “Oh good, you’re both ready.” Her eyes fell to her daughter with a smile. “You look lovely, Buffy.”
Joyce turned to Spike. “Doesn’t she look lovely?” She repeated for conformation.
“Yeah,” Spike replied nonchalantly, but kept his gaze on Buffy, giving her hint of a genuine smile.
She smiled back, enjoying the compliment. “Thanks, Mom.” Her eyes locked with Spike’s.
“Is everyone ready?” Giles questioned as he walked into the foyer as well. He glanced over at Buffy with a smile. “You look very nice, dear.”
“Thanks,” she replied. “I’m ready.”
“Ready,” Spike confirmed, tugging at his shirtsleeve. He paused for a moment, waiting for Giles and Joyce to walk ahead, and stepped in stride with Buffy, letting his fingers graze against hers.
A zing shot through Buffy, excitement growing. With a dress like this, how wrong could the evening go?
************
“…And this is my daughter, Buffy,” Joyce finished, gesturing to her right.
Buffy gave the older couple a strained smile. This had been the fourth time in the last half hour her mother had introduced her to clients. At first it had been kind of sweet, since Buffy hadn’t been living with her the previous year, but now…well, it was boring.
“Nice to meet you. Mom, I think I’m gonna go get a drink,” she told Joyce with another blinding smile.
“Okay sweetie,” Joyce replied, and then linked her arm in the older woman’s. “Millie, you just have to see the new tribal collection I got last week, it’s marvelous.”
With a relieved sigh, Buffy made her escape, grabbing a cup of soda. She stood by the food and drinks, trying to look occupied. Truthfully, she didn’t recognize anyone; it was mostly older-than-her crowd with the occasional teen. Spike had disappeared almost as soon as they stepped in. So much for support.
“Hey luv.” Speak of the devil, Buffy thought wryly.
“Hey,” Buffy repeated, sipping her soda. “Where’d you go?”
Spike leaned in close, so not to be overheard. “Gunn called, and then Mark and I went to have a smoke.”
“Mark?” Buffy’s nose wrinkled in confusion. She temporarily ignored the smoking thing. Spike certainly wasn’t a daily smoker, but he seemed to have a habit of smoking a cigarette sometimes.
“Bloke over there,” Spike gestured with his chin. Buffy followed his gaze to a guy around there age with reddish brown hair sitting next to a girl with ash blonde hair.
“Who are they?” Buffy asked, edging a little closer to Spike. After a moment, she could feel his hand tracing light circles against her bareback.
“Some friends of your mum’s kids,” Spike responded. “Met them over the summer when Joyce had a party.”
“Oh.” Buffy tried to come up with a more original reply, but Spike’s hand was distracting her.
Suddenly, she reached out, grabbing a flute of champagne and gulped it quickly, setting down on the table.
Spike cocked that scarred eyebrow. “You all right, luv?” His hand dipped lower.
“Fine,” Buffy answered quickly, almost annoyed at how Spike affected her with a near-tame touch. “Let’s go say hi,” she suggested and made her way to the pair sitting.
Spike followed, his face tinged with amusement. “Mark, Allie,” he greeted. “This is Buffy, Joyce’s daughter.”
Allie grinned up at Buffy. “Hey. Nice to meet you.”
Mark was less vocal. He just nodded in her direction, and continued playing with the string in his hand.
Allie pointed to the free seat. “Sit and talk. I’m unbelievable fuckin’ bored.”
Buffy couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “Yeah. I was picturing more fun and less…old.”
With a sweet smile, Allie leaned over the back of her seat and tugged the sleeve of the waiter. “Hi,” she said flirtingly “A glass of champagne for everyone, please?”
The waiter smile back. “Sure.” He held out the tray and all four took one.
“To boredom,” Allie announced, and they all gulped their flutes in unison.
Buffy smacked her lips, and looked around for the waiter. “Excuse me! Hi, I could I have another please?”
Two hours later, a tipsy Buffy was laughing loudly, leaning into her new friend. “I can’t believe you actually told him that!”
Allie wiped a tear from her eye. “Yep! What a loser!”
After a few minutes, Buffy managed to calm down. “Oh my god,” she said with a sporadic giggle. “So,” she began, glancing in Spike’s direction across the room. “What do you think of Spike?” Buffy didn’t want to ask anything that might connect her and Spike romantically, but she was curious what Allie thought.
“He’s cool,” Allie began, her lips turning upward into a grin. “And a great kisser.”
Buffy’s stomach dropped, and she froze. “What?”
“Oh.” Allie covered her mouth, looking apologetic. “Sorry. You probably don’t want to hear about anything romantic concerning the guy who’s, like, your stepbrother.”
“He’s not,” Buffy automatically corrected. “No, I was just…surprised.”
Allie’s pale eyebrow rose. “What’s surprising?” She smoothed a hand over her dark dress.
“Nothing…it’s just, Spike never said anything,” Buffy tried, feeling idiotic. Her cheeks were burning, and she glanced down at her shoes for something to look at.
Allie shrugged. “It was just one night.”
Buffy swallowed hard, her cheeks reddening in humiliation. Desperate for a new topic, her mouth formed, “What school do you go to?”
“St. Anges,” Allie replied
“The all-girls private school?” Buffy confirmed, easing into the change of topic.
“Yep,” Allie sighed, rolling her eyes. “Thank god this is my last year. I’d kill myself if I endure another year of all estrogen, all the time.”
Buffy couldn’t help but laugh at Allie’s dramatic comment.
“Allison, dear? It’s time for us to go,” a woman with equally pale hair walked up to the two blondes.
Allie’s eyes rolled again. “Bye, Buffy. Tell Spike to give you my cell. We’ll hang out soon.”
Buffy waved bye, watching Allie follow her mother and a man, presumably her father.
“Hey Summers.” Spike flopped into the seat next to her, watching Allie leave as well. “Nice bird, yeah?”
With a sharp glare, Buffy whipped her head behind her. “Stalkerish much?” She snapped, walking off.
Not bother to glance behind, Buffy missed Spike’s outraged expression, and was startled when he yanked her down a secluded hallway near the supply closet. “What the fuck?” He demanded, his eyes blazing.
Buffy met his gaze square on. “The fuck part is right,” she retorted bitterly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go back to the party.”
For the second time, Spike instinctively pulled Buffy back by the arm. “Hey!” She protested. “Let go.”
“No,” Spike said through gritted teeth. “Not until you tell me what your bloody problem is.”
“I don’t have a problem, Spike,” Buffy replied, tugging her arm back.
“Was it something I said?” Spike pressed, cornering her. “Something I did?”
When he saw Buffy’s lips press into a thin line, he exhaled loudly. “What the hell did Allie tell say?”
Buffy turned her head so their eyes didn’t meet. “Nothing,” she mumbled unconvincingly.
“Yeah right,” Spike replied angrily. “Tell me.”
“Nothing,” Buffy said with more emphasis. “I just wasn’t aware of how close you two were.”
After a brief moment of confusion, Spike shook his head with a scoff. “Summers, I don’t know what Allie said or what you interpreted, but I kissed her once, and that was in July before I met you.”
Buffy’s anger wavered. “I just thought…she said it was ‘one night’, so I just assumed…” she trailed off, her thought crystal clear.
Spike stood rigidly. “Yeah, well, you thought wrong,” he told the blonde.
“Sorry,” she apologized softly, her gaze drifting down.
Spike reached out touching Buffy’s cheek, traveling down to the hollow of her throat. “Yeah, me too.” His eyes found her lips and he stared at them hungrily.
Taking the cue, Buffy reached up, kissing him hotly. Their tongues dueled, and Buffy pressed herself as close as she could to Spike, feeling the hard contours of his body. Sparks exploded in her as Spike’s hands ran all over her body teasingly.
A moan escaped her lips, and Spike pushed against her harder. This time when Buffy felt his erection, she didn’t retreat. Instead she pressed back, her legs tangling with his. They slid against the wall as Spike moved them into the supply closet out of any prying eyes.
The darkness enveloped them, and provoked Buffy to move, albeit slowly, grinding against him. Mutual groans of satisfaction filled the music-muffled air.
Before Buffy could think, she was topless, the top half of her dress pooled around her waist. Her hot skin was smashed against Spike’s now bare chest. His hand roamed over her bare breast, making her moan and whimper.
Desire and lust took over. Buffy could barely form a coherent thought let alone words. She just let the feeling take over. Her dress fell from her hips easily, and her fingers moved deftly to undo the button and zipper.
Immediately, Spike’s hands caressed her hips, moving to her inner thigh and slid two fingers in her aching core. With a hitch of her breath, Buffy squirmed in pleasure as his fingers pumped leisurely.
“Oh…oh,” she murmured, her back scraping against cement.
“That’s it, luv,” Spike whispered, his voice thick with desire.
Buffy’s eyes drifted shut at the shooting stars of pleasure rained on her. When she could barely take it anymore, she groaned and grasped Spike’s member, giving him payback.
“Bloody hell.” She heard him curse, then breathe, “Buffy.” The sound of her name, not a nickname, sounded foreign from Spike’s lips. It was intimate, it was sexy, and it rocked her very core.
Without another thought, Buffy released him. Spike pulled back as well, glancing up at her with doubt. “Are you…?” He ended his question with an audible groan and fervent “Fuck!” as Buffy braced her hands around his neck and slid onto his member.
Very deliberately, she moved to the tip, and slid off awkwardly. “Do you,” she fought to catch her breath. “Have a condom?”
Blinking, Spike took a moment to string her words together in his mind before looking down at his jacket. “In my pocket.”
Buffy reached in and pulled out the square foil. Quickly, she removed the package and tugged the condom on. Leaning in for a brief kiss, Buffy sunk back onto his now-coated erection.
“God…”
Panting harshly, the duo moved, slowly at first, but then faster, to a crescendo of passion and pleasure. Buffy reveled in the feel of Spike, thick and hard, in her, undulating and throbbing. She gasped, whimpering and moaninged towards her climax, feeling Spike moving along with her.
So close…she was so close…
A near scream tore from her throat, muffled as she bit into Spike’s jacket covered shoulder. With a shudder, Spike followed, his breath ragged.
“Oh…” Buffy managed, her voice faint, her chest heaving.
For a moment time seemed suspended, their passion unhurriedly coming to an end in the most satisfying way.
“Bloody hell.” Buffy could feel Spike’s hot breath against her hair. “I love you.”
In a blink of an eye, Buffy jolted upright, her back once again parallel to the cement wall. Panic seized her mind, and she struggled to shove Spike off. Fear had taken over, and Buffy glanced up at Spike’s bewildered, slightly hurt expression and knew she had heard him right.
Oh god. “I need to…I gotta go,” she mumbled quickly, yanking her dress up, fastening the tie around her neck. She stumbled out of the closet, her unsteady feet carrying her out the back door. Unwanted sobs threatened to spill over, and her vision blurred. Her shoe caught the edge of a crack, sending Buffy tumbling to the sidewalk.
Sprawled on the cement, Buffy struggled to gather her things that had fallen out of her clutch while keeping the tears in check. She swallowed gulps of the crisp night air, trying to steady her thoughts.
She was so stupid. She hadn’t been ready for it again, not even close. Self-hatred burned her eyes. Her annoying habit of pushing herself to far had reared its ugly head once more. The words, the look in Spike’s eye had terrified her.
The scarlet dress fluttered at her knees. There was a smudge on the hem, and Buffy tried to rub it off unsuccessfully.
Suddenly, the high pitch ring of her phone emanated from her clutch, and Buffy reluctantly opened it. “Willow” flashed on the screen.
“Hey,” Buffy greeted, knowing her voice must sound quiet.
A mixture of sobs and sniffles reached Buffy’s ear, and she pressed the phone closer. “Willow? Is everything okay?”
“N-no,” the redhead answered, her voice cracking.
“What happened?”
“I-I told Oz.” Buffy could picture Willow’s hazel eyes wet, her chin quivering.
Buffy stood up, dusting off her legs. “Are you at home?” She asked, taking charge.
Another sniffle. “Yeah. My parents are in LA for the night.” Her voice sounded shaky and lonely.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”