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Ch. 6: Thoughtful Gifts

Spike wasn't sure why he showed up so early to the Sunday study group at Buffy's. Outwardly, he convinced himself that it was his normal MO to be on time for every event. In the far recesses of his mind, he perhaps hoped that there would be a repeat of Buffy's seductive dance just for him. He would never admit to that hope, but regardless of his reasoning, he was driving down Revello Drive about 20 minutes earlier than the set time. As he slowed down, he saw Buffy at her door and eventually recognized her companion as the guy she had picked up at the Bronze last night.

***

"I had a really good time, Buffy," Angel said as he walked her to her door. What surprised him was how honestly he meant those words. He was used to saying such pat phrases, expecting the usual blush and lowered lashes in response to his words; this time, he truly had had a good time. He found that they did actually have a lot in common, and their time walking through the lazy streets of Sunnydale's cemeteries and sipping coffee at the Espresso Pump had resulted in interesting and comfortable conversations. He wasn't completely in love or anything—he was far too sensible for that—but he was pleasantly surprised that his next conquest was someone he could actually talk to outside of bed.

"I did, too," Buffy said thoughtfully. She was still overwhelmed at how quickly she had ended up seeing Angel again, not really expecting him to call so soon. They had spent the Sunday very leisurely, strolling through Sunnydale's historic sites and premier dining establishments. She tried not to be embarrassed by the uninteresting places she had ended up taking Angel, but there just wasn't much sightseeing in Sunnydale. There wasn't a huge spark between them—she wasn't enthralled or anything—but there was a small connection between them. She tried desperately to quell the insecurities she felt towards Angel's motivations and intentions.

"Can I see you again later this week?" Angel questioned, looking into her clear, hazel eyes. As she looked up, he felt a twinge of something inside. She really was pretty, and her innocence made her that much more desirable.

"Um, sure. I can't do much during the school week, but give me a call," Buffy said, trying to sound as if she said such things all the time. In reality, Buffy had had very little dating experience. She hoped her naiveté didn't scream its presence to Angel.

"I will." Angel brushed her cheek softly with his hand and leaned in for a kiss.

Buffy's heart began to pound. "My first kiss? Now? On the porch?" Her staccato thoughts flew around until she noticed a black DeSoto heading towards her home. "Spike," she thought to herself. Instinctively she turned her head just as Angel's lips touched her skin—grazing her cheek.

Angel was surprised at Buffy's movement. He sensed her nervousness, but he hadn't expected her to give him the cheek. Her resistance only made him more eager to press her boundaries.

"I'll see you later, then," Buffy said with finality. She opened her door, waved one last time, and closed it.

Angel stood for a while, staring at the closed door, trying to assess what had just happened. Eventually he turned and began walking to his car. As he stepped onto the sidewalk, he waited for a black DeSoto to turn onto the driveway. Curious, he watched as a platinum blonde blatantly ignored his presence and walked up to Buffy's door. He watched as the guy rang the doorbell, confidently entered the house, and closed the door behind him.

Angel thought some more as he climbed into his car, pondering his next moves and the intriguing complication that seemed to have arisen. With one final glance at her house, he drove away.

***

Spike peeked through the curtains and watched Buffy's date drive away. He had seen their almost-kiss at the front porch and had tried not to seem too obvious in driving up to the house past loverboy. Buffy's mom had let him in; apparently Buffy had rushed upstairs for whatever reason, and Joyce had told him to wait in the living room. He was tempted to peek upstairs, but he felt uncomfortable about going up when Joyce had specifically told him to wait here. He sighed loudly, wondering what Buffy and Forehead had done to merit an almost-kiss on the front porch. Plopping onto the sofa, he closed his eyes in an attempt to block images from entering his mind. He shook his head and decided to get out his book to read; since he was supposed to have Love in the Time of Cholera finished by tomorrow, he might as well read while waiting. He lost himself in the book, absorbed by the sensual and languorous language, and was finishing the last page when he heard footsteps clambering down the stairs. He saw Buffy, now dressed in sweats and a baggy t-shirt—a far cry from the cute sundress she had been wearing earlier on her outing with Forehead (he supposed the guy had a name, but the nickname was now engraved in his mind).

"You're early," Buffy said simply. She tried to ignore the butterflies that were fluttering through her stomach in seeing Spike casually reading on her sofa, looking so scrumptious in his usual black tee and jeans. She also tried to ignore the obvious differences between her reaction to Spike and the more lukewarm reaction to Angel. She hardened her face in resolve, crushing all hopes with Spike and being more optimistic about possibilities with Angel.

Spike saw the expression on her face and interpreted it as annoyance, possibly because it cut into her post-Forehead basking time. He automatically went on the defensive.

"Yeah, well, some of us like to be productive on the weekends and not waste our time escorting every willing bloke around the block, whatever kind of block that may be."

Buffy shot him a nasty look. "Maybe losers like yourself just don't have anywhere else better to be than a physics/math study group," she said in a biting tone.

"What's with the sweats? We're not good enough for the sundress?" Spike said, annoyed by the fact that she had changed.

"Why would I study in a dress?" she said, her voice dripping with exasperation. At that moment the doorbell rang. Thankful for the distraction, she opened the door.

"Hey, guys," chirped Anya, who sailed through the door in a cute, pink sundress.

"Hey, there," said Spike, his voice completely changed to honeyed charm. "You're looking lovely, Anya. Nice dress," he said, pointedly looking at Buffy after throwing a smile to Anya.

"Oh, thanks, Spike. I always like to look nice. It's just a thing I have with looks and getting compliments." She twirled for effect. "Buffy! I thought we decided you were going to embrace my mind-set? What are these sweats? We're going upstairs right now to change," Anya said firmly, taking Buffy by the arm and marching her upstairs, completely deaf to Buffy's pleas. "Spike, you'll just have to wait down there."

Spike chuckled as he saw Anya manhandle Buffy up the stairs. If anybody knew how to strong-arm Buffy, it was Anya. There was something about Anya's persona that you just didn't mess with.

***

"Anya, it's just a study group. Why would I wear a dress?" Buffy complained, finally breaking loose of Anya's clamp.

"Buffy, it's not just about a study group. It's about wanting to look nice no matter what the occasion. You don't have to wear a dress or put on a ton of makeup, but you could at least care about how you look. I mean, ratty t-shirts and grey sweats? Come on." Anya gave her clothes a look of disgust and started to rifle through her closet. "Sometimes it's just nice to know you look good. Especially since we're still working on your confidence—and you're not going to improve your confidence looking like that," said Anya as she began throwing clothes out onto the bed.

"Or by hanging out with insulting people like you," Buffy muttered.

"I heard that, but I'm choosing to ignore it. You can't complain about boys not noticing you and people stepping all over you if you dress like that and act like that. You either embrace who you are or figure out what you like and what you want. So stop pretending like dressing nicely compromises who you are and show a little skin." She picked up the simple sundress that Buffy had worn earlier. "What about this?"

"I just wore that this morning when I was with Angel. Don't you think it's a little too much?" Buffy said, finally getting up and joining Anya in looking for a different outfit.

"Fine, fine. And you'll have to tell me how your date went," she said as she put the dress back.

"It was, well, nice. He's a really nice guy. He wants to see me again," Buffy said quietly, pulling out a pair of jeans. "How about these? They're those new ones I bought that aren't baggy."

"Good choice. Casual but stylish. So Angel is nice, but no major tinglies?" Anya said as she started to put back the discarded options.

"I guess so. Maybe they'll come later," she said while pulling off her sweats.

"Geez, Buffy. You wear those ratty sweats and a red thong? You are the weirdest dresser," Anya said.

Buffy quickly put on her jeans to cover her bottom. "I like lingerie. Makes me feel pretty." She put on a snug top that showed off her slim waist. "So are we done? Am I now presentable?" Buffy said sarcastically.

"Now, now, no need to get snitty. I actually have one more gift for you." She reached into her purse and pulled out a small box.

"Anya, you and Willow did more than enough for me. What else could I possibly ask for?" Buffy said, taking the box into her hand.

"Oh, you could ask for this." Anya watched while Buffy opened the gift.

"Pussy Pleaser?" Buffy shrieked, dropping the box onto the floor. Anya snatched it up quickly.

"Don't underestimate its powers. It's small, but it's amazing. I considered getting you a dildo, but we'll wait until you're deflowered." She opened up the box and pulled out the vibrator. "See, you just put in batteries—which I have generously supplied you with—and then you—"

"Anya! I'm sure I can figure it out. But I really don't think—"

"No, of course you don't. But you will. Just try it. We all get a little horny and frustrated sometimes. Even if things go well with Angel, you still might need a little Me time. And I know you love reading those romance novels. Might as well capitalize on what you do with yourself after you're turned on by those hot sex scenes."

"Anya, I—"

"Buffy, just trust me. Let me give this to you. It will open up new worlds. Don't say anything until you try it. Okay? Good. Now let's go." With that, she opened the door and began going down the stairs.

Buffy stood, stunned, until she finally realized what she had in her hands in front of an open door. She hastily put the new toy into the nightstand's drawer and then rushed after Anya.

***

As Spike sat on the sofa downstairs, he heard vague rumblings of the girls upstairs. He could've sworn her heard the words "thong" and "pussy" thrown between the two, but he wondered if he were merely dreaming. Whatever the case, he was going to have some interesting dreams starring Buffy, Anya, and a red thong. He grinned as his fantasies began to swirl before him.

***

"So are we all good with what's going to be on the Physics test tomorrow? Because I'm pretty beat with slopes and variables and formulas and oh god…my head's spinning," Xander moaned. "I'm only hanging on by the slimmest of threads, and it's only because you guys are carrying me through this class." He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples.

"Oh, Xander. It's not so bad. You know a lot more than you admit, Mr. Mechanical Engineer," Willow said, poking him in the side. "Stop pretending you're not smart. I can see right through you."

"Ah, Wills. If only I was as smart as you guys," Xander whined

"That's were as smart as you guys," Spike said, putting on his snobbiest British accent. He was greeted with a mass of pillows for his efforts. "And speaking of grammar, are we still meeting tomorrow after the Calc group to talk about our presentation?" he asked Buffy.

"Huh?" Buffy said, having zoned out while watching the gang bicker about exams and various school-originating stress. She'd been getting tired of all the studying and had begun to wonder about Anya's little gift.

"You know, our little presentation? Love? Cholera?" Spike said in a patronizing tone, his head tilted in an attempt to figure out where her mind had wandered.

"Oh, right," Buffy said, flustered, so much so that she even missed the opportunity to respond in a biting manner. Spike noticed this and looked at her closely.

"Are you okay, pet?" Spike asked, trying not to sound too concerned.

"Yeah, I’m fine. I'm ready for whatever you got. Tomorrow night it is," she said. Buffy still had a few chapters to go, but she was confident she'd be able to finish that night.

"Yes, tomorrow. Good thing I spent this morning productively, finishing up the novel," he said, his voice heavy with implication.

"Good thing I read so fast I don't have anything to worry about," Buffy said rather lamely.

"Okay, gang, I think we should call it a night, if you guys don't mind pausing the bickering for a few hours," Willow said, the last part under her breath.

Buffy glared at Willow, having heard her comment. "Yes, let's finish up. I'm pooped and ready as I'll ever be for the test." She yawned and stretched her arms over her head. As she raised her arms, her t-shirt slipped up to reveal a flat belly. To Spike, it looked soft and lickable. He glanced away before she could catch him looking at her and began to gather the plates and glasses that had piled up during their session.

"Whoa, Spike. Being helpful for once?" Xander said, amazed at his friend's actions.

"Well, we can't have Buffy's mom cleaning up after us every week, considering how much we come here. I'm a good boy when I need to be—but I'm bad when I need to be, too," Spike said, winking at the girls. Willow and Anya rolled their eyes, as did Buffy—but she blushed at the same time. She quickly began to help straighten the room, bending over to pick up discarded napkins and a dropped chip.

Spike couldn't help watching Buffy's movements, and he caught his breath when he saw just the top of what looked like a red thong. He looked to see if anyone else had noticed and—considering himself safe—peeked again. Yes, there it was, Buffy's low-rise jeans showing off the luscious scrap of underwear. Satisfied, he began whistling as he took the plates into the kitchen. His dreams would be good tonight. He heard someone behind him and turned.

"Thanks for helping. You didn't have to," Buffy said quietly. She had been surprised as well, not because he had helped but because he had started before she had. Usually she had to remind everyone to clean up. She tried not to let his presence get to her and came next to him to put glasses into the sink. "Are you sure it's not going to be too late tomorrow night to work on the presentation? We still have a lot of time before the first part is due," she said, trying to make conversation.

"You trying to get out of our little date? Afraid you're not going to finish in time?" Spike teased, leaning back onto the counter.

"Whatever. I was just trying to be nice," Buffy said, attempting to overlook the fact that he had called their time a date.

"I'm ready for anything you've got. Isn't that what you said?" Spike declared, clasping his hands behind his head, a smug grin on his face.

"You are so cocky," Buffy said, punching him in his stomach. Before she could react, he had caught her fist and held it.

"C'mon, luv. Isn't that what makes me fun? Everyone needs a little cockiness," Spike said, his eyebrow arched with implication.

Buffy pulled her hand away. "You are such a perv," she said quickly. "I think everyone's leaving." As she left the kitchen, she held her hands together, feeling the warmth of his touch and remembering the hardness of his stomach. Oh, if she didn't have such a weakness for abs she'd be fine, but unfortunately...

"I'll see you tomorrow, Buffy. And you'll have to tell me all about your date with Angel." Willow grabbed her bag and waved.

"Sure thing. Maybe I'll even have a note for you in the morning," Buffy said.

"Ooh, a note! Notes make me feel special," Willow said, excitedly. "Bye."

"Later, Buffster," Xander said. "Let's go, Anya."

"I'll be right there." She pushed Xander out the door. "Spike, aren't you leaving as well?"

"Yeah, I’m gone. See you ladies tomorrow." He strolled out the door.

"Finally. I just wanted to remind you about that little gift I gave you," Anya said, gesturing clearly.

Buffy grabbed Anya's hands in mortification. "Anya, please. How could I forget about your, uh, generosity in thinking of me."

"Well, that's me, the thoughtful one. You can write me a note and tell me how it was, okay?" she said perkily.

"Yeah, I'll think about it," said Buffy, pushing her out the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye!" Anya said. She then ran out to the car where Xander was waiting.

Buffy closed the door and let her posture slump. She slowly started up the stairs and finally reached her room; with the door behind her, she collapsed onto her bed, grabbing Mr. Gordo on the way. She played with his ears while she recounted the events of the day. Her time with Angel had been nice, but the time she remembered most clearly was moment she had had with Spike in the kitchen. She tried to convince herself it was just because it had happened recently. Her crush was going nowhere, and Angel seemed genuinely interested in her. She decided she would stop dreaming and give Angel a decent chance.

When she finished getting ready for bed and finally found refuge in its covers, her mind wandered to Anya's toy. Might as well see what's so great about it. Buffy reached into the drawer and pulled out the pink contraption.

She skimmed the directions—she couldn't help herself—and then tried to think of a scenario. She imagined the kiss with Angel on the porch and tried to fantasize about how that would feel, where it would lead. Content that she had found a fantasy, she turned off the light and turned on the vibrator.

She laughed out loud when she felt it tickling her, and she had to turn it off. She looked at it closely, trying to figure out how to control its intensity. She began again at a lower setting, and the gentle buzzing stoked the fire was starting to build in her. Her mind began to play out the events of the afternoon...

"I had a really good time, Buffy," Angel said. He reached out to caress her cheek. "You're so beautiful."

She looked into his brown eyes and put her hand on his chest, a solid broad chest. Her hands wandered down to his waist, thick with muscle. Not thin and cut, but still muscular. She tried to quell her disappointment and moved her hands to his chest again. Her eyes fluttered closed as he leaned in to kiss her.

She felt his breath on her lips and then waited in anticipation. His lips were soft and gentle. She felt his hands thread through her hair and then his tongue slowly lick her. She opened her mouth timidly, unsure of what it would feel like.

Suddenly she felt his hands tighten around her, rubbing her back and pressing her into him. She felt his tongue stroke hers, demanding but not forceful, passionate but not intimidating. She felt her body begin to react and moved her hands to run her fingers through his hair. She felt soft curls and moaned into his mouth, loving the feel of the soft locks caressing her fingers. She leaned further into the kiss, her body pressing against his.

He moaned, feeling her soft body push against his hard one, and his hands began to roam even more. He stroked her ass and felt her breathe sharply. She began rubbing her breasts against his, making him even hotter. He broke away for air.

"God, Buffy, you're so hot," he breathed.

She looked up abruptly into Spike's face, his eyes closed in intensity.


"Uuunnnnggg," Buffy shot out as her body tightened in climax. She reached down to turn off the vibrator. It had definitely made her come faster, but she was still unused to the unnatural buzzing and pulsing it pushed through her. She lay back, her body worn out by the intense orgasm. What began as an Angel fantasy had become a Spike fantasy, and she had a feeling her orgasm had only started when she somehow knew it had changed. And seeing his face, hearing his voice—well, that had pushed her over the edge. "Great, I can't even have fantasies without him coming up," she grumbled. She threw the toy onto her night stand, turned over, and promptly fell asleep.





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