The caterers were cleaning up, Gunn and Xander had gone to bed, Fred was helping the last few party guests into their limos, Lorne was paying the band and critiquing their performance, and Buffy was going insane.
She hadn’t seen Spike again. Not that she’d necessarily been looking for him, but every nerve in her body was tightly wound, her head was throbbing, and she knew the only thing that would make those annoyances go away was to talk to Spike, and to tell them that what had happened couldn’t happen again. Ever.
That or the cure for her ailments was more of what had happened. She wasn’t quite sure.
She finally gave into her screaming, pained feet and slipped off her shoes, heading from the kitchen where she’d been snacking on leftovers towards the bottom floor, her bed, and a sleepless night wracked with guilt.
He intercepted her halfway there. He didn’t say a word, just reached out and took her shoes from her, and headed towards his study. She meekly followed, running over her speech in her head. It started with an apology, ended with a request of silence, and hopefully, would lead to little or no awkwardness in regards to her continued employment.
Once in his office, all she got out was his name before his lips were on hers, and every thought and argument and excuse melted out of her body, along with each and every one of the pains.
Spike kissed her breathless, pulling away only when necessary to murmur, “You don’t know what you do to me, pet.”
She squeaked out, “I’m sorry?” And her response only prompted him to kiss her again, softer, sweeter, as he gently walked her backwards until her ass hit the desk.
“This is a bad idea,” he said as he tore away from her lips, gazing at her with an unreadable expression. She nodded. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” She nodded again. He was looking down at her with those crystal clear blue eyes, eyes filled with so many emotions Buffy couldn’t even begin to name them all. But just his eyes made her weak in the knees, whatever the thoughts behind them. “This is your last chance to tell me to stop.”
In response, she began quickly unbuttoning his shirt.
He dropped her shoes and picked her up, setting her on the edge of the desk as he helped her remove his coat, shirt and tie. One he was bare to her, she ran her hands over his abs, chest, and back, worshipping him, wrapped her legs around him, and pulled him closer to her so she could ravage his mouth.
Spike sank into the feel of Buffy around him, surrounding him, the smoothness of her skin, the scratchiness her dress, her lips, his own hands intertwining in her soft hair as their tongues dueled. His body felt like it never had before, as if every inch of it was both on fire and frozen in ice at the same time. His mind was a muddle of thoughts, but the prevailing one was just her name, over and over again, a thought that burst forth from his lips as he murmured into her mouth, “Buffy, Buffy, Buffy…”
Just as she moved her hands towards his belt, the phone in his office rang.
“Ignore it,” Buffy pleaded, her entire body throbbing with need, as she brushed one hand over the bulge in Spike’s pants.
“I wish I could, pet,” he groaned, wanting nothing more to do just that, but the phone number for that line was only known by a handful of people, all people who could NOT be ignored. He grimaced in frustration, disentangling from her limbs and grabbing the receiver. “What?” he barked. Buffy frowned as the color drained from his face as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the call. “Now?...You’re sure…Of course, I didn’t know. Fine.” He hung up quickly, and glanced back at the curious girl in front of him, his blue eyes hard and unfeeling.
“You need to go downstairs.”
“What?” She said in surprise, the smile dropping from her face.
“Love…please. Just go downstairs, I have to deal with something,” Spike said in a monotone. “I’ll…put your phone on vibrate, yeah? I’ll call you when I’m…done.”
She nodded quickly, slightly afraid, grabbed her shoes, and left. Spike mourned the loss of her body near his, then slowly grabbed his shirt and put it back on. He picked up the phone again.
Buffy, of course, had no plan to just stay downstairs as she was told. She quietly changed out of her dress into all black pajamas, pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and checked to make sure Gunn was soundly asleep.
She listened carefully for sounds from above, but then realized that she could hear voices outside. She slipped out the door, hiding in the same alcove she and Spike had occupied earlier that evening. She could see a group of figures walking past the pool. Buffy contemplated returning to the house, aware of how dangerous it would be to pursue this mystery further. But, never one for avoiding a challenge, she took a deep breath and followed them, finding a perfect spot to watch from behind a huge palm tree, just far enough away from the group so that she was hidden in total darkness.
She narrowed her eyes as she recognized one of the men as Angel, and another as Lorne. One of the others suddenly, without warning, punched Lorne directly in the gut. Her friend doubled over in pain, then fell to his knees as his attacker followed up his punch with a brutal kick to the knees.
She was too far away to hear, but Buffy knew Lorne was crying and begging, two things that had no effect on Liam Angelus. The man pulled out a pistol and pointed it at the head of the kneeling man in front of him.
A scream bubbled up inside Buffy’s chest as she saw Angel remove the safety and press the weapon into Lorne’s forehead. Lorne was pleading, his shoulders shaking, and turned away from the gun to speak to the last man in the group.
Her scream died at her lips, however, as she realized who Lorne was talking to. Spike, standing a bit off to the side, his face made of stone, cigarette smoke billowing from his mouth. He was just watching.
The faint sound of a silenced gun reached Buffy’s ears, and Lorne’s body fell forward onto the grass.
Angel gestured to the two men with him, and began to walk away. Spike followed, casually stepping over the corpse on the ground. Buffy covered her mouth in fear as the two walked past her hiding spot up to the house, and the two men left behind picked up the body and began to carry it in the opposite direction.
Buffy waited until the coast was clear, then ran back to the mansion and locked herself in her bathroom, collapsing on the floor, frightened sobs threatening to burst forth from her. After a while, her cell phone on the counter began to vibrate.
She glared at it, willing it to stop. It did, but only for a second, as Spike persistently called her three more times before giving up.
Buffy breathed deeply to stop her shaking and suppress the tears that threatened to spill, the image of William Grace’s coldhearted expression fighting with her memory of the way he’d looked at her tonight. She rose from her curled up position on the ground, and headed towards bed, praying for some resolution to the turmoil inside of her.
So? What do you guys think now...
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I can't but giggle when I read some of your reviews...I love knowing what you think is going to happen I'm so excited to see your reactions to this chapter, it's probably the most...eventful yet, so really, if you read it and like it, please review! Thanks so much for sticking with me so far!