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Chapter 9: The Games We Play


***First, I am sorry it has been so long since the last update. I have fought with my internet for three weeks. It was staying on line for about three hours a night for the last month and would not let anything upload successfully. I hope finally that it is fixed and we will have no more problems. Second, thank you to all of your loverly reviews. I finally got to read them the other night and it made me so guilty it took so long to get an update. Third, review and let me know what you think of the story so far. Love those loverly review. ***


Warmth. That was the first thought through Buffy’s mind as she slowly moved towards consciousness. Warmth surrounding, filling her with its calm presence. Soft, silky sheets caressed her bare skin. A hard, warm body wrapped around her, fitting against her back perfectly.


“Mmm.” Buffy sighed as the body shifted, pulling her closer against him causing the waterbed to swing and sway with the motion. Buffy opened her eyes at the movement, her skin turning green.

“Oh God!” She moaned as she forcefully threw herself from the bed, none too gracefully, and ran, naked, from the room. The sudden loss of contact brought Spike from his slumber in time to hear the sounds of a door slamming shut and the running of water.

Spike opened his eyes and promptly shut them again, his arm moving up to cover his eyes with a groan of pain. The whole of the Sunnydale Marching Band was parading unceremoniously through his head, the dip and sway of the bed doing nothing to easy his frazzled nerves.

Spike laid in the bed for a long while, his head pounding and his mind racing. The night before flashed through his thoughts. The vulnerability and hurt that flickered across her face as Buffy stripped every barrier away, leaving everything that she was bare to his scrutiny. He let out a soft moan as he remembered laying her upon his bed, running his lips over her silky skin, the breathless moans that passed her lips as his hands slid down her body.

A loud bang in the direction of his kitchen brought Spike from his thoughts. Slowly, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, the pounding in his head increasing. Gingerly, he stood up and snagged a pair of black jeans, sliding them on, leaving the top button open carelessly.

Spike padded silently out of the room and down the small hall that led to the kitchen, running his fingers through his hair. The sight that greeted him brought a smile to his lips. Spike leaned against the entry to the kitchen and watched the blonde girl.

Buffy stood in the middle of the kitchen, her shirt covered in coffee grounds along with the counter, coffeemaker and the floor. With a sigh of disgust, Buffy grasped the hem of her shirt and shook it. Coffee grounds flew everywhere. When she was satisfied that she had removed all the grounds from her shirt she added another scoop from the partially empty tin into the coffeemaker and slapped the filter holder closed, flicking the machine on with a sigh.

“Broom.” Buffy muttered with a shake of her head and turned to find the object only to stop when she came face to face with Spike. Buffy’s eyes widened comically as she turned her head around to look at the mess and then back at the blonde in the door.

“Um, oops?” Spike chuckled and stepped into the kitchen.

“I thought you were gone.” Spike said as he took a step closer to Buffy.

“Figured might need coffee.” She replied, holding her ground, her pulse starting to race.

“You or me?” Spike asked, stepping closer to her.

“Uh, me?” Spike chuckled and closed the gap between them.

“What about me?” His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling Buffy snuggly against him. Her hands came up to rest on his bare chest.

“If you want some.” Buffy whispered, her eyes staring a bit fearfully into his.

“I think I want something else first.” Spike purred, his other hand coming up to tangle in her hair.

“What’s that?” Buffy asked, her voice no louder than a sigh. Spike’s lips curved into a smirk, his hand tightening possessively around her waist.

“You.” He replied just before lowering his lips to hers.

Buffy expected his lips to devour hers, demanding a response, but she was pleasantly surprised when he brushed his lips softly over hers, his tongue coming out to trace lightly across the fullness of her bottom lip. Buffy sighed and leaned into his caress, her mouth parting as his tongue teased against the seam of her lips. With a satisfied moan, Spike dipped his tongue into her mouth, gently coaxing her tongue to play with his.

Buffy met his caress with a moan, her hands snaking around his neck and raising herself onto her tip toes, to press herself more fully against his hard body. She tasted of tooth paste and mouth wash. The thoughts of her using his toothbrush caused Spike to moan and pull her impossibly closer to him.

He tasted of alcohol, of cigarettes, of Spike. The taste on anyone else would have left her with a turned stomach, but Buffy couldn’t get enough of his taste, so uniquely his own.

The gentle kiss continued for what felt like forever before they both had to part to breathe. Buffy stared up into his piercing blue eyes, panting for breath. Spike stared back before dropping his lips again to hers. Before they could connect, Buffy’s hand covered his mouth.

“Wait.” She said, wincing at the husky sound to her voice. “We need to talk.”

“’Bout what?” Spike asked, knowing full well where the conversation was leading, but trying to avoid at all costs.

“About last night.” Buffy replied her gaze falling to his chest as a blush painted her skin. She pushed against him, and he reluctantly let her escape his embrace.

“Wha-” She stepped away from him and cleared her throat. “What happened last night?”

“There were sparks, and alcohol and heat and-you don’t remember?” Spike asked, moving to lean against the counter.

“Well I remember the beer, and the shots.” Buffy replied, her face twisting with the memory. Spike smiled at her reaction. “I remember me-uh, with the-, and the”

“Your little strip tease.” Spike spelled out for her, watching her already flushed skin grow redder.

“Ya.” She replied. “I remember you carrying me to the room and-” She broke off turning her back to him.

“There was the loss of more clothing then you pulled me into bed with you.” Spike prompted, moving to stand a hairs breath away from her.

“Ya.” Buffy shivered at his nearness.

“Then I kiss you here.” Spike moved the hair from her neck and pressed his lips softly against the exposed skin. “And here.”

Buffy shivered again as he ran his lips over her skin and she couldn’t help but tilt her head to give him better access.

“Stop.” Buffy sighed without conviction before pulling herself reluctantly away from his lips. “I need to know.” She said, turning to face him.

“What?” Spike prompted, unwilling to answer her unspoken question.

“Did we-” Buffy blushed again, dropping her eyes to the floor. “Didwesleeptogether?”

:”Sorry pet, didn’t quite catch that one.” Spike smirked.

“Did we sleep together.” Buffy mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze.

“You really don’t remember?” Spike asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“I was really drunk.” She replied. “Really, really drunk. I remember you, and me, and the-the nakedness.” She blushed again. “I need to know.”

“Would it be bad if we did?” Spike asked, unsure of why he didn’t just answer her question, but needing the answer to his.

“A world of yes.” Buffy sigh, missing the hurt look that crossed his face. “We just met. People don’t just-”

“People all the time just-” Spike waved his arm angrily.

“But I don’t.” Buffy half yelled. “Just tell me. Did we or didn’t we.”

“You were there, pet.” Spike said, avoiding the question.

“You are impossible.” Buffy replied, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I don’t remember. I do not remember. So just tell me, please.” Spike stared at the blonde woman before him, her eyes pleading for him to give her the answer she so desperately needed.

“You passed out.” Spike said quietly.

“What?”

“You passed out. We were just getting started and you passed out cold.”

“Really.” Buffy asked, a hopeful note in her voice.

“Really.” Spike spat. “You didn’t sully your virtue by sleeping with me.”

“I didn’t mea-”

“Just forget about it.” Spike interrupted, turning his back on her.

“Spike,” Buffy said softly, moving to place her hand on his shoulder. “I’m-”

“I said forget about it.” Spike said turning to face her. “No harm, no foul, right? By the by, isn’t it time for all good little girls to be scampering off home?”

“Spi-”

“Just go home Buffy.” Spike said quietly as he stepped back from her, his shoulders held ridged. “Just go.”

“What if I want to stay?” She asked stubbornly, taking a step forward. The pair stared silently at each other for a long moment.

The sound of the phone broke the heavy silence.

“You should get that.” Buffy said. With a sigh Spike turned and picked up the phone.

“What!” He snapped into the phone. After a brief pause, “No I don’t need a subscription to Woman’s Weekly.” With an exasperated sigh he slammed down the phone and turned back to Buffy. He heard the soft click of his door as it slid shut, his body slumping with defeat.

She was gone.
To Be Continued





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