"Damn him. Damn him to hell," Buffy Summers cried, slamming her palms on the steering wheel of her mother's SUV. The tires squealed across the driveway as she sped away from her now ex-boyfriend's apartment. She just wanted time and he told her it was over and to get out. If she wasn't in trouble already, coming home after stealing the vehicle she was driving too fast towards the highway, she certainly would be now. It was after 1pm and she wouldn't be home from Los Angeles until at least 4am. The road was slick from the rain that had fallen earlier that night and Buffy had finally gotten her driver's license only last month.
Truth be told, things had been going south with Angel for months now, and though she was still reeling from the rejection and their final fight, deep down she was relieved they were over. In a last ditched and upon reflection, rather pathetic attempt to keep him, Buffy had snuck out of the house, taken her mother's car and driven up to Los Angeles. The complete and utter humiliation of finding her supposed boyfriend in the sack with women fawning over him going,"Mmmm, Annngel!" like he was an Egyptian prince slapped her memory again and she pushed down further on to the gas pedal.
"I can't turn down this scholarship, Buffy, you understand don't you? This could lead to the NFL, you get it, you're a cheerleader, right?" Buffy mocked Angel's words aloud, distracted from the road. So much so that she barely had time to slam on the breaks to stop the SUV before it hit the last car in a long line to get on the freeway. She skidded off on to the shoulder just in time, her heart leaping into her throat. She felt her heartbeat pounding in her ears and her breath coming in labored puffs,"Get a grip Buffy, he wasn't worth it." But she'd thought he was and finding out what kind of guy the most handsome boy she'd ever seen really was had cut her to the quick. She spent a few minutes crying then made a U-turn back to the access road that supposedly followed parallel to the freeway for a stretch of 50 miles, then merged back on. At least she thought she remembered that's what it was. There was probably a pileup on the highway and she wanted to get home.
Angel had been her first love, her only love. Of course now she wondered if it really had been love, or just infatuation and the status of having the high school quarterback as your boyfriend. Angel had been wonderful most of the time, until he started pressuring her to go to bed with him. Buffy had wanted to, but when they got close to the actual deed, she always put the breaks on. One too many times for Angel's tastes, apparently. Now he had a harem of college freshman nymphets to quell those urges. Buffy was glad she hadn't slept with him. He didn't deserve her, or her virginity. Going to LA to ask him to come home was catalogued as Stupid Buffy Idea #344 and promptly put behind her.
She slipped a CD of her mom's into the player and sighed, at least the Beatles never disappointed anyone. Oh, except that whole Yoko thing. The rain started up again and Buffy fumbled with the unfamiliar controls and eventually got both the front and back defrost going and the windshield wipers. She had to squint to see clearly through the increasing pressure of the downpour. It hardly ever rained this hard in California, but being on par with the night she'd had it was a near deluge. The single lane highway was loosely paved, with high, dense forest lining both sides. She felt like she was trying to drive through a tunnel. It was dark and now that her anger was dissipating, fear set in. She was alone on a dark highway.
There was a flash of white in her headlights and she saw a man's face seconds before she collided with him. She slammed on the breaks and hydroplaned twenty yards along the wet road before skidding to a halt. Buffy was too petrified to cry again, to scared to even move. She debated whether or not she should get out and see the body, or if she should keep going, get to a gas station and call for help. She put the SUV in park and slowly descended on to the road. She was soaked instantly in the downpour. There was a figure outline by the red of the tail lights, all in black save for the shock of bleached hair. She scampered over and stopped, looking for signs of life. When he groaned and rolled over she screamed.
"Bloody hell, woman, help me!" he cried back, then let out a howl of pain that reminded her of an animal,"You fucking hit me! I can't believe you fucking hit me!" He sat up and angrily push water out of his face, only to have it replaced immediately with more rain.
"I'm s..s..sorry, I didn't see you! It's dark and you're wearing all black!" He was dressed in black jeans, t-shirt and a long black coat of leather. He was youngish, probably in his late 20s or early 30s, with a chiseled face of hard lines, but with soft, pale eyes. And evidently English. Angel who?
"Right, well. Got me there. Listen, help me up would you? I don't fancy sitting in the puddle all night and you're soaked to the bone already. Can't have you catching a cold, can we?"
"Huh? Oh, no...um, okay." Tentatively she held out a hand he looked at it as if she were passing him a celery stick.
"M'leg's not broken but it's been bashed in by your car, luv. Bit more effort is needed on your part." She was feeling high-strung enough already from the stress of this awful night, but her body became even more afflicted when she crouched down and hooked her arm under his and the other across his back to help pull him up to his feet,"Where the bloody hell's my sack gone?
"What color was it?" He arched his eyebrow and she rolled her eyes,"Fine. I got it, black." He tried to put pressure on his leg, but it was useless and he fell back. Luckily his fall was broken by landing on the aforementioned duffel bag.
"Found it." Buffy pulled him to his feet again and he stumbled forwards, his hands falling onto her shoulders for support. He looked into her eyes and smiled a very persuasive, seductive smile,"Can I have a ride?"
"I..."
"I can't walk, please. You can boot me out at the first sign of civilization. Would any decent person wouldn't leave a wounded man out on a night like this?"
"I guess not."
"Ta, love. Help me to the car?" He didn't ask so much as wrap an arm around her shoulder and lean heavily. Her hand went around his waist and the other to his abdomen. Buffy wasn't sure if it was the cold, or the feel of his washboard abdomen under hand, but her nipples ached from their stiffness. He hobbled to the SUV and pulled himself up inside. He shook himself off like a dog and immediately fiddled with the temperature controls until hot air was blowing on him,"Fucking brilliant, heaven. God it was getting hard to endure out there. Maybe you running me over was a good thing afterall." Buffy closed the driver's side door and gave him a nervous smile of agreement,"The name's Spike, by the way."
"B..Buffy." He snickered,"What? Like Spike's any better?"
"Spike is cool."
"And Buffy's...."
"Cute."
"Bite me."
"Anytime, pet. Let's get the show on the road, eh?" She frowned and stared the SUV moving. They sat in silence for some time, both of them casting each other furtive glances, Buffy trying her best to concentrate on the road. She was travelling just below the speed limit and trying not to hit anything."No wonder you hit me!"
"Excuse me?"
"You drive like my grandmum."
"I already hit one person tonight, I'm trying not to hit anyone else thank you very much."
"There won't be anyone else. You were the only car I've seen tonight."
"Why were you out there? Don't you have a car?"
"I do, a rare beauty a classic DeSoto...that stalled and wouldn't start again. It's black, so I doubt you saw it when you passed it."
"Wouldn't it have been better to have stayed with your car?"
"Normally, but I need to get to Sunnydale for a meeting in the morning. I was going to call for a tow."
"Sunnydale?"
"Yeah."
"That's where I'm going."
"Good, must be fate." He smiled and sighed and relaxed back into the seat, squirming his way out of his coat and letting the heater warm him up. There was a long stretch of silence again and it was obviously annoying them both,"Mind if I put the radio, some music might take our mind off the storm." She shrugged and he flipped on the radio. The first voice to fill the void was an announcer, Spike let it be for the moment.
"...and the storm will pass inland shortly before dawn. Hopefully power will be restored by then also, crews are working through the night. A continuation of our top story...police have now confirmed that last night's murder of a Southern California family last night on a barren stretch of highway was committed by the same suspect wanted in a similar murder two weeks ago near the Mexican border. In both cases the cars apparently stopped for a hitchhiker who in turn killed his victims by slashing their throats. The only lead the police have at this time was that the assailant according to other motorists was wearing all black...now to sports..." Spike hurriedly turned the station and classical music replaced the ominous words of the newscaster. He looked over at Buffy, her knuckles white as she gripped the wheel, her breath coming in panicked pants.
"What are you afraid of? I'm not going to hurt you. Are you going to hurt me?" he asked.
"No...of course not. Nothing's wrong."
"Right, you're as white as a ghost, pet."
"I'm fine."
"You're what? Seventeen, eighteen years old? You're alone on a dark deserted highway and you've just picked up a stranger. It was a bloody stupid thing to do and you know it, but love, I'm a decent bloke and I'm not going to try anything. I promise."
"How do I know that?"
"You don't. Go with your gut, Buffy. Trust that if you don't trust me." She didn't relax in the slightest,"Alright, let's talk. Why aren't at home tucked into your beddy byes?"
"Why aren't you?"
"Told you, have to get to Sunnydale for a meeting."
"I was in LA, visiting someone."
"Boyfriend?"
"None of your business."
"Ah, ex-boyfriend then."
"Shut up."
"Will do."
"No...keep, keep talking. Is Spike really your name?"
"No, it's William. Got that nick back in school...long story. Is Buffy yours?"
"Yeah."
"Don't be so glum, it's lovely. As long as you're not a cheerleader or...oh. Sorry." The obvious look of embarrassment on her face was enough to get him to steer the conversation in another direction.
"This guy you just broke up with, he a decent sort or a jerk you're better off without."
"A jerk. What about you?"
"Hmm. Ended a long term thing earlier this year, her name was Dru. She cheated on me."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. I'm better off."
"Angel, he cheated on me too."
"Angel? That's the name of a poofter if ever there was one!" Buffy smiled and Spike smiled back,"Glad to get a grin."
"You're from England, right?"
"North London. Came here a few years ago, with Dru. Spent some time in New York, now I'm out here to mine my golden future."
"Doing what?"
"Writing."
"Wow, cool! What do you write? Movies?" He waved her off, seeming almost shy,"Come on." He sighed.
"Romancenovelsokay...."
"What was that?"
"Romance novels, I write bloody romance novels!" Buffy tried to hold in her laughter, but couldn't and it came out in a loud guffaw,"Thanks. Great. Fabulous. Look, it's not those smaltzy fluff pieces about white knights and babies...they're darker."
"Darker?"
"Vampires n' such. Nothin' gets a girl hotter than the image of a vamp slippin' his fangs in her throat, pulling on her blood while his hands..." Buffy was blushing, even in the dark he could tell,"Anyways, I'm meeting a producer that's got his weekend home in Sunnydale, I've been optioned. So there you have it, you almost ran over a very famous author."
"I've never heard of you."
"Ta, love. You wouldn't have, I use a pseudonym and you'll have to pry that name from my cold dead hands."
"For a novelist you're pretty lousy with the metaphors."
"Bitch."
"You could get out and walk."
"No I can't, you hit me with your...hey, hang on a mo'. Slow down."
"What?" She took her foot off he gas and tried to see what he'd spotted. Ahead there on the side of the road was a car, it's doors all open, headlights illuminated the road ahead and the red tail lights flashing. Buffy pulled up slowly along side them and Spike rolled down the window to examine the scene.
"Keep driving, Buffy, don't stop!" She didn't obey. Instead she put the vehicle in park and undid her seatbelt.
"What's up?" She leaned over to look and he pushed her back,"Hey!"
"You don't want to see this. We need to find a phone. Do you have a cell?"
"The battery died. What it is..." She arched up over him and saw what had upset him so. Even with the rain there was still enough blood that the inside of the car look as if it were painted red. The people...the kids...Buffy screamed and Spike turned her away from the grizzly scene and pulled her against him. She sobbed and shook and hid her face against his chest while he rubbed soothing circles on her back and whispered ineffectual words of comfort.
"Told you not to look, pet. No girl should see such a horrible thing. We need to call the police." He tried to pull her away, but instead she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him,"There, there, sweetheart. I can drive, alright?" She mumbled something against his chest and this time he forced her back,"What was that?"
"Your leg."
"The right's okay. Here, let's trade places." He quickly rolled up the window and with some careful maneuvering, traded places with her. He pulled away from the scene quickly, making the back tires skid on the wet road,"Sorry...just needed to get away from there as quick as possible. The killer...he...might have still been there somewhere."
"Oh god." She was shaking and that bothered him. He reached out and pulled his leather coat up around her and she hugged it around herself. She was still crying quiet tears.
"Love, we'll find a phone right away and call the cops, they'll take care of it."
"The little boy...just a baby..."
"I know. I....there's just no words."
"I should never have left home."
"No, you shouldn't have, but I'm not your father, brother or anything else, so I'm not gonna give you a lecture. Just...not that you can, but try and take it easy. Everything will be better once morning comes. Promise."
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"Just thank you." He reached out and stroked the back of her head once and then concentrated on driving. Buffy watched the road and hugged Spike's coat around her. She breathed in the scent of leather and old cigarettes, a hint of alcohol too. Somehow it was comforting. She thought Spike may have been right, and her hitting him had been fate. She probably would have gotten out of the car to investigate the murders and for all she knew, been taken herself by the killer .
Spike spied a sign and read it as they passed it. There was a motel off the next exit,"Pet, there's a motel a few miles off the road, are you okay if we stop?"
"I guess so...I don't feel so good."
"You need sleep. I need sleep. We can call the police from there. What do you want to bet it's the Bates Motel?" He laughed at his own joke, but Buffy didn't look amused in the least,"Sorry, love, just trying to lighten the mood some."
"I don't think that's possible, but thanks for trying..." Buffy hesitated, but pressed on,"I'm glad you're here."
"I'm glad too. You don't seem like the damsel in distress type, you're brave, I can tell. But what we saw tonight...I'll be haunted by it." A few miles down the road a singular light illuminated the night as a beacon calling them to sanctuary. The light was from the inside of the office of the Wells Motel. The line of rooms numbered seven and the place looked to be fifty or so years old judging by the style. Rather homey, considering."Wait in the car, pet, I'll get our rooms." Buffy nodded, noting how he'd said it plural, rooms. The hint of chilvary that told her he wasn't going to try and seduce her in her emotional state was very much appreciated. Still, the thought of spending an intimate night with this handsome British stranger that wrote romance novels wasn't an unpleasant one, not by far. Spike was handsome, devastatingly so, furthermore he was kind, rugged and sexy...and maybe just a little bit dangerous. He was nothing like Angel's false image of being the all-American hero good guy. She pulled the collar of his coat up around her face and snuggled in deep to the leather.
Inside the office was a man, a timid blond of no more than twenty who sat behind the desk watching an old episode of Star Trek on a black and white television. He did a double take when he saw Spike. He jolted up out of his seat and put on an air of propriety,"Welcome to The Wells Motel, my name is Andrew and I'll be your concierge..." the boy stammered. Spike quirked up an eyebrow at the odd display but chose to ignore it and get down to business.
"Need a couple of rooms," Spikes stated.
"It's $30 a night."
"That's fine, two rooms." Andrew presented Spike with the registry and got him two keys.
"Numbers 1 and 7 are made up. Terrible night isn't it?"
"You have no idea. Thanks, we'll be turning in right away, when's check out?"
"Eleven."
"We'll probably leave early. Are there phones in the rooms?"
"Yes, but they don't always work and the power goes out alot too, especially in a storm. There's candles and matches in the bedside tables. Next to the bibles."
"Un huh, got it. G'night."
"Goodnight. I hope the girl will be okay by herself." Spike's spine stiffened. The little boy had just given something away. He must have been watching his and Buffy's arrival.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing! Nothing. It's just...not nice out there tonight."
"She can take care of herself."
"Numbers 1 and 7." And put the keys in Spike's hand and turned back to his tv show.
"You here alone?"
"I am now. Since my brother Tucker went...missing. I live in a house, you can see it just up on the hill. Goodnight...." Andrew looked at the registry,"Mr. Brandybuck?" Spike shrugged his shoulders and left the office. As if he'd give his real name to anyone, least of all oddball loners like Andrew Wells.
When Spike returned to the SUV, Buffy hadn't moved positions, but gave Spike a weak, timid smile when he returned,"Got us each a room, love. Why don't you take number 7, lucky number, right?"
"Where are you?"
"In the first one."
"We're far apart."
"Yeah, but it's all they've got." He passed her the key to number 7 but kept the car keys for himself,"Better make a mad dash for it, keep the coat on, stay dry. You can call your mum in the room if you want. I'm sure your parents are half out of their mind with worry."
"Trust me...they aren't." Spike frowned at that comment."Sleep well." She nodded and got out of the car, then ran to her room and snuck inside as quickly as possible. Spike sighed and locked up the SUV after grabbing his duffel bag, then went into room number one.
Buffy locked the deadbolt and fastened the chain across the door the very second she was inside. She fumbled her way to the bedside lamp and turned it on, filling the room with a dull amber glow. The room looked clean enough, but she didn't think she'd ever stayed anywhere so low class. It wasn't that she was a spoiled rotten snob, but she was used to her own bed. She also wasn't used to being on her own. Now that she was alone again, her mind began to replay the night's events over. Flashes of the mutilated, murdered family by the side of the road made her nauseous. Almost killing the man, six rooms away, with her mother's car still made her shake. He was charming, affable, and with a male quality that made her want to let him protect her, hold her, touch her. However, the rational side of her mind told her she didn't really know him in the least. Just because he'd gotten them separate rooms didn't mean that maybe he still wouldn't want something from her, or that he was a good man.
The more she focused on Spike, the more her mind played tricks on her. The pelting of the rain outside distorted sounds and more than once, Buffy shot frightened glances at the door or window. Spike had come out of nowhere. She certainly hadn't seen him until it was too late. Or maybe....had he pretended to be hit accidentally? So he could get a ride? The wind as picking up outside and it howled through the trees. Buffy shivered and realized she was soaking wet and cold. A hot shower was in order. She hadn't seen Spike's black car on the roadside. She picked up the phone, not that she had any intention of calling...not that it mattered, because the line was dead. He seemed to friendly, too jovial, too close. She took off his jacket and her wet clothes and went into the bathroom. There was something about his eyes. The hot spray of the shower felt like heaven, pure bliss, washing away the cold from her bones. What if Spike had been walking away from the murder scene instead of towards it?
After her shower, Buffy wrapped the bath towel around her body and dried her hair with another. As soon as she stepped back into the bedroom the lights flickered and went out,"Great," she mumbled. It's not like there was a TV to watch or anything anyways, but the lack of electricity period made her uneasy. She guessed sleep was the best thing afterall. She pulled back the covers and touched the sheets, they felt smooth and not dingy at all. Thank heavens for small graces.
Before she knew what was happening, her face was pushed into the pillow and there was a man on her back. She began to struggle immediately, her screams muffled in the pillow. Reflexively she cocked back her arm and it smashed into his nose. There was a definite crack and he was off her, shouting out expletives and then he was coming for her again. Quick to action herself, Buffy brought her legs up to her chest and waited until the right moment and kicked him in the gut. When she heard the sound of a jackknife slicing through the air she let out a blood curdling scream.
Upon the door came the resounding thud of someone trying to kick it in, along with curses being shouted. The assailant was so intent on his victim that the sound at the door went unnoticed. After the third kick, when he was just a few feet away from Buffy, the lock splintered away from the door, the chain snapped and the rain and wind came rushing in. Buffy took the opportunity of her attacker's distraction to role away and off the bed, landing on the floor and scrambling away until her back hit the wall. There was a dull thump of a body hitting the ground, but Buffy was too terrified to look.
She screamed again when another set of hands lay themselves on her naked shoulders.
"Buffy!" Spike said, urgent to see if she was still with him,"Love, snap out of it!" She looked up and saw the sharp outline of his face in the dark.
"Spike?" she whispered.
"Yeah, sweetheart, are you hurt?"
"Oh Spike!" She lunged forward and grabbed him, hugging him with such fierce strength he had trouble drawing in breath. He held her to him, the fact that she was stark naked did not go unnoticed, but he didn't care. He only cared that she was alive and safe in his arms. He pulled her on to his lap and relaxed against the wall and let her have a much deserved cry. When she calmed down and began to shiver, he moved.
"Come on, Buff, we need to move, you'll catch your death of cold." He got them to their feet and pulled his coat off her bed and around her body. He scooped her up into his arms and held her close, tucking her head under his chin. He walked them quickly from the room and into the night. He went as fast as he could through the rain and with his bad leg, back to his own room. Once inside he stripped her of the leather coat and lay her in his bed, pulling the covers up over her. Then, he closed the door and locked it back up. He didn't stop there, and moved the lone armchair by the window against the door. From the bedside table he retrieved the candles and the matches. Setting them up on the bedside table in an empty water glass he soon filled the room with soft candlelight. He sat down next to her and looked upon her. She was still crying, now that the crisis was over, the true horror had set in. He bent down over her and wrapped his arms around her, laying his face beside hers on the pillow.
"He...he..." she sobbed,"He tried to..."
"Shhh...I know, darlin', but he didn't. You're safe now, I won't let anything hurt you."
"I had the door lock...locked! He was in there already. He was there when I had my...my shower. Oh god...what if..."
"Buffy, shhhh...try and breathe."
"How did you know?"
"I saw a shadow in your window, just before the lights went out. It was too big to be you. I ran as fast as I could...there was a piece of iron railing on the ground, from that bit of garden under the window. I hit the back of his head as hard as I could. I think I killed him." At that admission, Buffy put her arms around his back. His back was bare and he was just as cold as she was. Instinctively they tightened their grips on each other, hands beginning to roam. Buffy turned her face towards his, feeling each others breath caress their lips. Spike's eyes closed and he leaned in that final inch. Her lips were moist with rainwater, yet warm and so soft that he eased further into her mouth without hesitation.
Buffy had breathed in just before they came together and held her breath for the moment. He was remarkably gentle, his tenderness helping to make the memories of the attack fade. The was no urgency, merely the slow play of lips kneading. They drew apart after a time and Spike's hand came up to cup her face while he rested his forehead against hers.
"God you taste sweet....I mean...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." She stopped his words by leaning in for another kiss. They stayed together for only a few more seconds, then it was her turn to talk.
"You saved my life."
"I put you in danger. I'm sorry. I didn't think we should share a room, wouldn't be proper...but if I'd bloody bothered to cast a thought..."
"You couldn't have know. Do you think he was the one who killed those people. He had a knife."
"I don't know...if he is, I hope he is dead."
"Are we safe?"
"You're with me, so you're safe. No man'll ever put his filthy hands on you, I swear it."
"Your hands are on me. They're cold."
"I'm sorry."
"You should get under the covers so you can get warm." He did a double take, rather surprised by her invitation, but received the affirmation he needed when her hand trailed down his chest and unbuckled his belt,"I'm still cold."
"Warm you up, shall I?"
"Hold me?"
"Sure, honey, I'll hold you." In the demure haze of the flickering candles outlined just enough of his body as he got up and pulled off his boots and jeans for Buffy to see how beautiful he was. His body was a sleek canvas of undulations and taut muscles. Her eyes lingered in one spot in particular and she felt an intense, almost primal surge of energy in her abdomen. She'd never seen a naked man before and she knew she was playing with fire for being so bold. She'd never gone this far with Angel, but with Spike everything felt right. In this cocoon with him she felt safe and even loved. She was young and inexperienced and more than a little frightened. She wasn't sure how far this could and even should go, but she wanted his arms around her, wanted his skin against hers.
He came around to the other side of the bed and pulled back the covers, easing down beside her. He shifted over until they were side by side, then opened his arms to invite her into his embrace. She curled against him and he pulled her against him, their torsos pressed fully together. The full roundness of her breasts with the hardness of the tips from the cold against his chest caused Spike to let out a moan of perfect contentment. The soft thatch of curls on her mound tickled the length of his cock, excited him despite his chagrin. He welcomed the soft little kisses she bestowed on his neck and how her hand rested in the small of his back. Her hair was wet still and he was afraid she'd catch cold so he pulled the covers up to their chins.
Between them Buffy felt his arousal pressing against her, increasing in hardness and size. She closed her eyes and made a decision. She licked his neck, suckled on his pulse points, kissed and kissed him.
"Buffy?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. She kissed along the sharp line of his jaw, the pronunciation of his chin, then tugged on his bottom lip.
"Spike," was her reply, then another kiss,"I think it's fate."
"I hope so, because I want you, Buffy...from the moment I saw you. God, you're beautiful." Her eyes cast themselves downwards and Spike could tell she was blushing from the compliment,"Let me show you how beautiful..." The next kiss was urgent, his tongue slipping easily into her mouth to curl around hers, deep, hot and sensuous. Buffy had never been this well kissed before, Angel was like a slobbery dog, Spike was a man of experience. She hoped this boded well for what was to come. His hand found the back of her thigh and slid down to her knee and then swept her leg over his hip as he moved over her. Under his weight she felt protected and coveted, as if she were something that belonged to only him. Their kiss was rapturous and fervent, while his hands roamed up and down her body. When his nimble fingers dipped to the apex of her thighs she gave a shiver. He stroked lightly between her nether lips, teasing and finding her wet and definitely in want of him. However, reason won out over lust and be broke their kiss.
"Why are you stopping?"
"Got to ask...are we okay? I mean, are you protected?"
"On the pill, yeah." She wasn't lying, he mother had made her start the day she turned sixteen. He got this cocky little grin on his face that made her loins melt and he shocked her by growling, she was sure it was a growl. He bent his head down and lavished attention over her breasts, then drew one cool hard nipple into his mouth. She hissed when he began a heavy, strong suckle. She's had Angel's hands on her before, but this was something entirely different, something pleasurable beyond rhyme or reason. She fisted her hands in his hair, holding him to her breast while she squirmed underneath him, her body temperature rising and her breathy moans filling the room."Spike...oh Spike."
He moved both hands under her bottom and positioned himself at her opening. Buffy let herself relax as he nudged inside past her labia and began to stretch her. Not knowing to be slow and gentle, Spike continued on and sheathed himself fully inside her. He knew what had happened not from her sharp cry of pain, but from the sensation of breaking through her virgin barrier. He couldn't will himself to move after that, he was too overcome. She was so hot and impossibly tight, he was in ecstasy, but his heart was breaking for her. Underneath him Buffy was tense and none too comfortable, her hands grasping his shoulders.
"Sweetheart..." he breathed out,"You should have told me.......god, m'sorry..." He stroked her hair and kissed her falling tears,"M'sorry."
"I..."
"Go on...wait, we can stop. It'll hurt again for a moment when I pull out, but it'll be okay after that."
"No...don't stop." She exhaled and let go of his shoulders, easing her hands down his back. She breathed in again and relaxed,"Don't leave me."
"I won't, baby. Tell me what you want."
"Just give me a minute."
"Anything my girl wants..." He closed his eyes and began reciting the poems he loved inside his head. He needed the concentration to keep from moving until she was ready. Meanwhile Buffy allowed herself to feel what it was truly like to have a man inside her. She was stretched taut around him, but the initial pain was fading. She had been slick and ready for him, in want of him. Spike had exploded into her life and in a few short hours she had fallen for him. It wasn't the traumatic events of the night that had brought them to this moment, it was the magnetic pull of the universe putting the right people together. She didn't ever want to be without him. Experimentally she began to move under him, drawing her knees up, letting him sink deeper inside her. Cradling his hips between her spread thighs Buffy bucked up against him. It felt....incredible.
"Make love to me....all night, Spike." He pulled back and she gasped, then he pushed forwards again. He locked eyes with her and began a slow, easy rhythm of pumping languidly in and out of her. After a few minutes Buffy's senses began to ignite, the stroking of her inner flesh by this hard column of flesh was indescribable. Buffy had no template for comparison, but she thought he must be especially well endowed because it was too much for her. But she didn't want to stop. Every time he pushed into her, the base of his cock ground against her clit and each time Buffy's entire body quaked with the pleasure of it. So this was what the big deal was all about. And he smelled good too. Their lips found each others again, this time fueled with passion one hundred fold.
As the minutes stretched on and on, Spike began to move faster, hungrier until he was thrusting vigorously and Buffy was sounding out a symphony of cries and moans. Without encouragement, Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist and hooked her ankles together, one of his arms went under her bottom to lift her into each punishing thrust, the other tilted her head back so he could kiss over her neck. As wonderful as kissing her is, he wanted to hear the effect he was having on her pussy, on her body, and maybe even her soul.
"This good, kitten?" he asked gruffly, grinding against her, bucking his hips and knowing with the sharp cry from her sweet mouth that he was hitting the sweet spot inside her. She only nodded her head and made a strangled cry, the sound of which made his balls tighten,"Fuck yeah, it's good, innit?"
"Don't...don't stop....too much...but don't stop!"
"Never, never, love...my Buffy, aren't you? Tell me."
"I'm yours. I'm yours. Oh god, Spike! Spike!"
"Let it come over you, love, I've got you." There were tears in her eyes and her body felt as if being held on a precipice, just needing that one push over the edge. Suddenly Spike stilled, and Buffy protested, but he persisted. He lay his weight on top of her, and began to move ever so slightly. At her heightened state of arousal, this action offered prime stimulation inside her and on her clit, sending sparks of electricity straight to her womb,"Buffy...I think I love you." And she came. Arms, legs and cunt squeezed him with all her might. Then she melted and sobbed out her orgasm.
For this being her first time, this one woman held more rapture than any Spike had known before. Her body singing around his was intense, overwhelming and beyond any mortal pleasure. At her body's demand he exploded within her for long minutes until he was utterly spent. He all but lost consciousness atop her, still gloved snugly inside her tight heat as she continued to pulse around him.
They'd disentangled some time during the night and Buffy awoke to the sound of birds chirping their songs outside the motel room window. Spike was curled around her against her back, one hand erotically cupping her sex, as if claiming her. His face was buried in her hair and he slept contentedly. Buffy smiled. Despite the hell of the first part of the night, waking up in her lover's arms was like a beautiful dream. She didn't want to break the spell, but knew that this bliss couldn't last forever.
"Spike?" she whispered, turning over. He opened his eyes and squinted against the light.
"Mornin'."
"'Fraid so."
"Bugger. And I was having a real good dream too."
"About what?"
"The especially wonderful hour last night in which I made love to you."
"Was it only an hour? It seemed like longer....like it was never going to end."
"Hmmm...give or take. I've never had a night like that Buffy, it was amazing. You're amazing. Was I alright for you?"
"Alright? Are you kidding?! You're a god!"
"I'm a what? Bloody hell woman, you'll give me a complex. Sod it, tell me of all my godly virtues." She giggled and kissed him sweetly, but then he sighed and she knew that it was over,"There's some harsh stuff we've got to deal with outside of this room."
"I know. Oh damn, my clothes! They're in the other room...with him."
"Tell you what. We'll take a shower, not that I really want to wash you off but..."
"Sticky."
"Right. Then I've got some clothes you can have. I'll go over there and get your clothes and sweep the room for any trace that you were there. I don't want the police to know you were here, it's too much trouble to bring down on you. I'll say that I walked all the way here, and when I saw that there was someone in room number 7, I went to investigate because I'd of course come across the family and suspected the killer had fled to the motel. There was a fight, I killed him..."
"Aren't the police going to figure out the truth somehow?"
"Maybe, I dunno, I'll take care of it sweetness."
"What about us? I have to go home...you have your meeting."
"Well, the meeting's shot, but I suspect the publicity will actually help my career. You know Hollywood...any publicity is good publicity. As for us....Buffy, I don't want....I mean, I want us to be together. It's all happened so fast."
"My mom's going to ground me."
"God, how old are you?"
"Seventeen."
"Bloody hell."
"How about you?"
"Staring down the barrel of thirty."
"Ew, I did it with an old guy." He smacked her bare bottom,"Just kidding. Spike...how can this work?"
"Oh, darlin' I don't know, I really don't. You have to go back to your life...to...and I cringe as I say this, high school and I live in LA. Well talk, we'll email, I'll sneak up to see you as much as I can. When you turn 18, we can make new decisions. Just promise me you'll not be with..."
"I'm your girl."
"I won't be with anyone else either. Out you get, love, let's wash up."
"Real life sucks."
"No it doesn't. This is real." He leaned in and kissed her once more.
Spike found an unsettling scene in room seven of the Wells Motel. Andrew had apparently been kneeling beside the body all night long, mumbling incoherent sentences. Spike gleaned the name Warren from the boy's ramblings. There was more to the story, Spike discovered, but he had to make sure Buffy was off safe first. He kissed her goodbye and told her to drive safely, making sure she had his phone number, address and email with her before she left. He told her he loved her and then sent her on her way. The phone in the motel office was in working order. He called the police, a tow truck and his agent.
What followed was a maelstrom of media attention and once the world found out who he really was, everything escalated from there. DNA proved that Warren was the serial killer that had taken so many lives on the backroads of California, and that Andrew Wells was he accomplice and perhaps lover. All very scandalous. Tucker Wells' remains were found in the basement of the Wells house. A little too Hitchcock for anyone to ignore. Fame and notoriety increased for the author and so did his loneliness. At least he had the memory of his night with his Buffy. He stopped calling her house after the ninth try, her mother wouldn't let her come to the phone. Every day he checked his inbox and found no letters. He drove up to Sunnydale daring to try and find her at school. From the door to her mother's car she was escorted by the principal. It frustrated him to no end that he couldn't get to her and he imagined it must be hell for her too.
As Andrew Wells' trial got under way, Spike found himself surrounded by paparazzi, hounded to the point where he became a prisoner in his own home. He hadn't any family, life was unbearably lonely. More than once he contemplated trying to kidnap Buffy, but she was still a minor and that would've led to more problems. Which was the last thing he needed. Christmas came and went and he spent it alone too. He'd bought Buffy a diamond ring, longing for the day he could give it to her. He wondered often if he was wrong in the head to be obsessing so much over a girl. But every time he thought of her, remembered her body moving with his and how she was innocent in everything except soul, he affirmed that they were fate. He just needed to be patient.
Patience often came at the price of broken glass, too many cigarettes and bottles of liquor. For the most part however it came in the form of his writing. Their story. Or at least his version of it. He made it alot more dangerous and added quite a few more sex scenes. He knew there would be comparisons to the real life drama, but that would only fuel the public's interest. Mercifully Andrew was still considered legally insane and had made no mention of Buffy. After losing his lover, he'd lost his mind. Spike could relate.
He was sure this fanfare would have made some people happy, but not Spike. He'd been alone for most of a year since Dru, not even a date let alone anything emotional, then in one night Buffy had changed everything. Buffy was the center of his universe and he hadn't seen or touched her for five months. He was miserable and he knew he must look like hell. He certainly felt like it. Giving into despair he laid down on his bed, hugged his pillow and tried to sleep. A while later he heard the phone ringing. Reporters didn't usually bother him after 10pm, so he figured it must be his agent. No one else ever called him. The last thing he wanted was to talk to Glory, she was hell on wheels. She was still a good agent though. He stuffed another pillow around his ears and let the machine pick it up. He fell asleep eventually.
At four a.m. Spike awoke with a terrible headache. The scotch he'd had for dinner wasn't sitting too well with him. His tongue felt like a carpet and he was sure there was gravel under his eye lids. He went to the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face and ran his hands through his mess of tangled curls. He hadn't had a haircut in months, nor bleached it and he hadn't shaved in a week. He looked like a vagrant or a punk. He brushed his teeth to alleviate some of the decay. The thought of a microwave burrito was about all he had to look forward to. Once he awoke after a certain time, he could never get back to sleep. Sleep was elusive. Joy was too.
Passing the answering machine in the hall on the way to the kitchen, the blinking red light alerted him to the message from a few hours ago. Leaning against the wall he waited for Glory's rants and raves.
"Spike...Spike are you there?" Spike shot up straight like a rocket, fully awake,"Spike...please pick up! It's Buffy. Um, okay, I guess you're not in. Listen, I'm sorry to just call you out of the blue like this, I know what you must think of my after all this time and I'm really sorry, but I kinda need your help. I'm at the bus station and....and well...I'm not sure what to do, or where I should go. Some jerk stole my purse and I've only got some change in my pockets, well and my jewelry, some weido offered me money for my earrings and something else I so don't want to ever think about again! So yeah...if you get this message, I'll wait by this phone for a couple of hours, the number is 555-7836. If you don't call..." The tape ran out before she could finish. Fuck. If only he hadn't ignored the phone. He'd put up with reporters and cops hounding him for months just so the number he'd given Buffy would remain the same and now the one time she calls he ignored her. He kicked the wall and subsequently hurt his foot,"This message was saved at 1:23am." It was almost five now. Buffy had been in that place for over four hours now. He was in a frightful panic. Anything could have happened to her by now. She could be dead, kidnapped, raped...oh god, please let her be okay. Clumsily with shaking hands he dialed the number to the phone booth. Nothing for six rings and then someone picked up.
"Yeah?" A gruff male voice answered.
"Hell...hello?" Spike asked, voice wavering.
"Whaddaya want?"
"I'm looking for a girl."
"Yeah, aren't we all."
"No, dammit. Did you see a girl at this number tonight, small, blond, about 18?"
"The cute little thing with the legs and the rack, oh yeah, we saw her. Nervous as a bird."
"Is she there now?"
"No...this big guy kinda scared her off....haven't see her for a while and I haven't moved all night. Got to stake out your spot before the midnight bus comes in. " Spike hung up the phone, his guts aching something fierce now. The lack of food and too much liquor had probably given him an ulcer. Trying to operate mechanically rather than by thought, he went back to his room and pulled on his jeans, a t-shirt, socks and his boots. He grabbed his keys and ran for the door, he was sure he'd probably have a full force of police on his tail from speeding but he didn't care. If anything had happened to her, he'd be ruined, he'd kill himself for sure. Nothing meant anything without her. He was running out the door when he was suddenly halted by a hand was placing itself on his chest. He looked up and let out a sob of relief.
"Buffy!"
"Hey," she said, voice as soft as the coo of a dove. He looked her up and down. She didn't look hurt, in fact she looked like a goddess. She also didn't look angry, but she did look tired,"Are you going out?"
"Wha...?" She was about to speak again, but he grabbed her and pulled her to him. His mouth plundered down upon hers for a voracious kiss that was sure to leave her lips bruised. She didn't mind, she was just relieved he was glad to see her. She tried to speak to him, but he took that opportunity to push his tongue into her mouth. From then on Buffy let him do whatever he wanted. She closed her eyes and kissed him with as just much passion and intensity. His knees buckled and they crumpled to the floor, landing on their sides and he pulled her closer, as if trying to merge them into one person. This was more than either one of them could have hoped for, no sign of disdain or rejection, it was as if their first night had never ended.
Mournful, hurt sounds began emanating from his throat and Buffy realized that he was crying. Carefully she drew them apart and he kept trying to kiss her again,"Come on, I want to come inside and the floor's dirty," Buffy said, pulling him up to his feet. She pulled her suitcase and knapsack inside and closed the door.
"Buffy..."
"In the flesh...can we sit?"
"I need..." He grabbed her and hugged her again.
"Happy to see me?"
"You have no idea, oh god it's been hell. I had no idea how horrible it would be without you."
"Shhh, I know baby, I know, but it's okay now. Why are you crying?" He angrily scrubbed his face clear of tears, sniffing and trying not to be embarrassed.
"Missed you. It's been worse than death."
"Not sure if that's a compliment."
"What? God, no...Buffy I love you."
"Oh! Well, I love you too."
"You do?"
"Very much. Where's the living room?"
"Oh, um, this way." Barely letting go of her, he led them from the foyer and past a large staircase, to a room off to the right. She'd been wowed by the size of his house when she'd arrived, but seeing the inside had her astounded. He lived very well by the looks of things and the decor was something she saw in only magazines. He didn't let her have the couch, but instead encouraged her to sit on the lambskin throw in front of the fireplace while he busied himself with stoking the hearth.
"I know technically it's still winter, but I don't think it's cold enough to need a fire."
"It's romantic you silly bint."
"I'm a what?"
"Shhh."
"Did you just shush me?" She furrowed her brow and pouted. He thought it was adorable. Once the fire had begun a healthy roar, he settled back.
"I got your phone call, just now. Love, I was scared something had happened to you. I'm sorry I didn't come right away."
"That's okay, I guessed that you were out."
"But I wasn't, I was asleep...no, that's a lie. I didn't expect it to be you, so I didn't bother with it. I'm ashamed of myself."
"Spike, it's an honest mistake."
"So bloody what? I did I know that you hadn't been...been...horribly violated by a pack of bikers or..." Buffy couldn't stop herself from giggling,"Are you...are you laughing at me?"
"I can actually take care of myself and I did, I'm here aren't I?"
"But you sounded scared on the phone."
"Well, okay, I was...a little. There's alot of weirdos at the bus station and I was pissed off. Some punk on a skateboard made off with my purse!"
"I'll thrash 'im, good n' proper."
"Whatever. I left home you know? You look like hell and that beard is scratchy."
"I'll shave...wait a minute? You did what?"
"I turned 18 yesterday and my mom said if I walked out that door I couldn't come back. You think you've had it bad? I was escorted to class, never allowed near a phone or computer, not allowed out with my friends. I missed you every day, cried every night thinking about you, wondering if you were okay. I watched the news, the stupid tabloid entertainment shows, anything to see you. I even tried running away before, but she caught me before I got anywhere."
"What did she say about us?"
"Nothing, she doesn't know."
"And she kept you under nazi regime because?"
"I stole her car and drove to LA to see my ex-boyfriend, stayed out until morning, smashed the headlight and lied my face off."
"Oh, right, that. Don't worry pet, she's your mum, she'll cool off eventually."
"Yeah, but what do I do until then?"
"Sweetheart, you came here to be with me didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Don't fancy leaving anytime soon, right?"
"No. When was the last time you ate?"
"Couple days ago...I think."
"Thought as much. I'm a lousy cook."
"Not a problem pet, I'll hire one. We'll sort out a credit card for you too, we'll go shopping tomorrow for anything you need."
"I'm not here because you have money."
"I know, I wasn't even thinking it. Just don't want my girl having to do without anything."
"I'm kinda terrified. You need a shower and your eyes are bloodshot."
"I'll sleep well tonight with you holding me. Don't be scared of us, you can't deny how hard it's been to be apart. But I'll wait to give you the obscene diamond I bought you until you've settled in."
"You didn't buy me a diamond!"
"Sure I did, really big one. Bloody huge!"
"Can I see it?"
"No. I'm gonna take a shower, you, get naked. I want you by the fire." He kissed her again and got to his feet,"There's some food in the fridge, I think, and some white wine, if you like. I'm glad you're here Buffy. I don't think I could've made it much longer without you."
"Me too. Spike? Do you think we'll be okay? That this will work out? I mean, in the long term."
"Wish I knew, love. But I promise I'll do everything in my power to keep us together." She rose up to him and took his hand in hers.
"It's been a long night, a nice hot shower sounds relaxing. And then to bed, we'll make a big breakfast in the morning."
"Come along then."
"When you say it's an obscene diamond, are you talking moderately rude or really offensive?"
"Really offensive, princess, as in worthy of a restraining order."
"Are you going to freak when I remind you I should technically be in high school? And I do planning on finishing, so when you pick me up in that big black DeSoto, all the teachers will think you're my Sugar Daddy."
"Terrific. And no, I won't freak, as long as you don't mind putting up with my artistic frustration fits. I have those. I drink and I smoke too much."
"I'm immature and selfish."
"I'll knock you up, shoud fix that."
"Great. My dad lives in LA, he's a jerk who cheated on my mom with his bimbo secretary. Wanna meet him?"
"Sure, as long as I can act like a deviant, be every father's nightmare and make lewd insinuations about poppin' your cherry."
"Crude much?"
"What can I say, baby, I'm bad." She stopped them outside the bathroom and wrapped her arms around him.
"No you're not, you good inside, you're the best man I've ever known." He caressed her cheek and kissed her forehead.
"I'm not an easy person to be with."
"Me neither. There's going to be things we really hate about each other."
"But things we'll really love too...like making love all night and waking up in each others arms."
"Yeah, definitely that. Hot showers together too." He led them into the bathroom and stripped them both of their clothes, then got the hot spray of water going, guiding them both under it.
"Incidentally, love," he asked as he glided the bar of soap over her breasts,"How did you manage to get here tonight?"
"Oh, no trouble, I just hitchhiked." Spike dropped the soap.
THE END
