Ch. 1: Homecoming

"So, I'm coming home next weekend for a quick visit," she said nonchalantly.

"I'm coming home..." The words echoed in his head, ripe with untapped possibilities.

"You busy?"

"Uh, no. I'm not busy. You won't be busy? I mean, with your family and other people and--" he ventured, not wanting to sound overly eager, though his heart was bursting with hope of spending time with her.

"Well, yeah. Gotta do the Summers family bonding. But if I ask you if you're busy, it implies that you're part of my busyness. I thought we could get together while I was in town. Maybe get a bite to eat?"

"Yes. Yeah. That sounds fine." Don't sound too eager. Try to stay calm. Play it cool. "Any reason you're coming down?" It was too much to hope that she was coming down for him, but he could at least confirm that it wasn't for anyone else.

"My mom's got this special thing at the gallery going on, and since I have a long weekend, she asked me to come down. It shouldn't be too bad, though."

"That's cool." He mentally sighed in relief, glad that she wasn't coming down because she missed Angel, her boyfriend before leaving for college. Their relationship had seemed pretty serious, and everyone had thought their love was eternal. William had quietly watched, imploding with the agony of seeing them together in the halls. Everyone else seemed surprised at the couple's demise, which took place shortly before the summer began, though he was ecstatic at the change of events. Fortunately, she didn't seem that upset about the break, which gave him a small piece of hope--though he knew he had nothing to do with their breakup.

"And you know how I’m non-drive-y girl. Can you pick me up?"

He rejoiced at her constant state of walking and his ability to drive; it made him feel like their get-togethers were dates, even though it was merely a necessity. "Sure. I can do that. Um, where did you want to go?"

"You know me. I like to be served. Let me think...What will I be in the mood for?" He envisioned her eyes closed, trying to taste what would be appealing then. He smiled at the image.

"Well, let's start with kind of food. I mean, Italian, Chinese, French, McDonalds..." William suggested.

"Oh, god--no fast food. College is just the worst when it comes to eating out and eating cheap. No, let's do a non-chain place. How about that Italian place by the park. Trattoria Piazza? I've heard good things about it."

"Whatever you want. That’s fine. Good." Though he was calm and nonchalant in responding, he was excited about her choice; he had been hearing how the new place was incredibly romantic and was recently voted the best new date place in the local Sunnydale newspaper. "So what time should I pick you up?"

"Um, how about 7? That way if we want to do something afterwards, it'll still be early enough. You don't have the SATs or anything this weekend, right?"

"No, no. This weekend is open. Saturday at 7." "SATs," he thought to himself miserably. She still saw him as a young high schooler.

"Yup. Cool. See you then."

"Bye."

He hung up the phone and sat still, waiting for his heart to go back to its normal pace, for his face to lose its flushed complexion. She was coming home this weekend. She was coming home this weekend, and she had called him to make specific plans to see him. William breathed in slowly, trying to control his excitement. He knew it didn't mean much to her, that he was just one person on a long list of friends she would be seeing this weekend, but he could pretend it meant more. Buffy, his golden angel, was coming home this weekend. He could feel his whole body warm in anticipation. How would he sit through three more days of monotonous high school when she was coming? Would she be the same? Would their friendship be the same even with her having left for college and meeting tons of new people? He was amazed that she even wanted to see him.

His body thrilled, thinking of her beautiful smile, how she could light up his room with laughter. He'd been in love with her for six years, ever since he'd moved to the States and she'd welcomed him when it seemed no one else noticed him. He still remembered her introducing herself, easily talking to him and inviting him to the local hangouts. She was the popular one; he had simply been someone tagging along, but he didn't care. They became good friends, with Buffy always making time to talk to him and hang out with him. He knew how many people she hung out with, boys she dated, girls she gossiped with. Her life was an endless whirlwind of relationships and social activities; he merely sat back and watched, waiting for his turn.

He had tried to stop loving her, tried when he'd realized she'd probably never see him as more than a young friend though they were only a year apart. When she had left for college, his world had become gray and uneventful. They emailed, keeping in touch as much as a freshman in college remembered those left behind. Why did he love her so much? To say that he was obsessed with her was too strong, too negative a description. Was his life gray and nondescript without her? Yes, to a degree. It wasn't that William didn't have a life of his own; it was simply that William was forgettable, and Buffy made him feel like she remembered him. When he had moved away from all that was comfortable, when he had lost his mother in a sudden accident and was forced to live in a new place with new people, when he felt that no one even noticed him...she did. Her smile had helped him deal with all those things and come out standing--and he couldn't let go of her, couldn't stop loving her, couldn't see other girls in that manner, no matter how hard he tried.

He had considered telling her at winter break, when she'd be down for a while, after he'd assured himself that his love persevered even in her absence. That, of course, was now irrelevant, since she was coming this weekend. She was coming this weekend! He closed his eyes, beginning to worry about how he would act, what she'd be like, how their pseudo-date would go. The thoughts darted around his head, refusing to let him get back to studying for his Calc exam tomorrow. He wanted to plan out his words, his actions, his movements, but for what? He knew that the moment he saw her, his plans would dissipate in the aura around her. No, there was nothing he could do to plan, to make the weekend come faster, to prepare himself for seeing her.

Now he could only wait. And breathe.

***

Buffy hung up the phone and immediately began chewing her lower lip. Was he excited that she was coming home? He hadn't sounded overly enthusiastic. Had he completely found other friends, other girls to take her place? She knew about Harmony, the cute blonde who'd been making eyes at him for some time, and he didn't seem to mind. She furrowed her brow, reviewing their conversation to find some hint of attraction or anticipation in his voice, his responses. Nothing.

Sighing, she threw herself back on the squeaky dorm bed. Everyone kept telling her that William was madly in love with her and had been for years. But every time they were together, she couldn't find any proof of it. She remembered first seeing William, his eyes downcast and his curls falling into his face. He'd had a gentle countenance, and she felt drawn to him. The others didn't think twice about him, but she brought him in, got him to play in her world. The more she had gotten to know him, the more she was enthralled by him. He was so different from everyone else, and she felt she had discovered some precious gem in William, a secret that she alone knew.

His poetry--a moment of late-night conversational weakness had revealed his penchant for writing and his refusal to show it to her, or anyone, since that bitch from England had laughed at him. His music--the little he had sung for her captivated her completely and made her gape at his lithe fingers, his gravelly voice, his closed eyes as he sang intimately about his inner thoughts. His wit--the more they talked, the more he joked with his dry sense of humor, commenting on the world around him and the people who inhabited it--and she always found herself laughing with him and being amazed at his way with words. And, of course, his washboard abs--she had gotten a peek at them while he was playing soccer and had wiped his face with his shirt in a rare moment of unbearable heat; he was not one to flaunt his body the way the other boys did, though she shamelessly wished he did.

Though all the girls agreed that he was cute, they didn't seem to share the fascination or attraction that Buffy had, though she was careful to hide it. And though they teased her about his unwavering love for her, Buffy couldn't admit that it was true until she had proof. Her relationships had not done much for her self-esteem--boys seemed to be eager to cheat on her, leave her, take her for granted, hurt her--and so she was unwilling to take a chance with a boy she felt so strongly for.

But maybe this weekend, she'd stop being such a wuss and just go for it. If things didn't work out, she could just go back to school and not have to face him on Monday. And if it did, well, that was another ending she could fantasize about.

She thought about him one more time, caressing his sharp features with her eyes, and then got to studying.

Ch. 2: Dining Pleasures

After Buffy had left for college, William had decided to start anew, not allow himself to waste away because she was gone. He'd allowed his small group of friends to make some changes to his appearance to parallel the changes he was hoping to make inside. It hadn't fully worked; inside he was still the shy poet and musician who found beauty around him but was hesitant to share it. He was still the internally rebellious youth, not wanting to be like everyone else but wanting to be loved by everyone else. He was still the quiet athlete, running on the soccer field and keeping the team moving without being the showy goal-maker. He was still the same.

But outside? Outside he was completely different. Platinum blond hair, contacts, black leather. Nothing he wasn't comfortable with, but not what others expected. He had gotten lots of compliments, though the new look still didn't give him the confidence to share his poetry or tell the love of his life his feelings.

He ran his fingers through his hair. Would she like the new look, his new hair color? His contacts? Was he stupid in allowing his friend Xander convince him to change his look? He sighed, shaking those thoughts from his head. There was nothing he could do about it now.

He took a final look at himself in the mirror. Blue shirt, black slacks--the basic look. He remembered how Harmony, flighty thing who'd clearly been interested in him, had gushed over this shirt. Though he didn't appreciate the constant fawning, he was grateful for the fashion help. He hoped she hadn't been exaggerating. A final stretch, cracking his neck in preparation for a night of unrequited love, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

***

The fourth outfit thrown haphazardly on the bed, Buffy scrutinized her near naked body, trying to figure out what she should wear. She was already clad in her new red bra and matching thong--secret tribute to William's favorite color--but she wasn't sure what to wear over it. While pondering, she looked over her body, making sure her body was still attractively tan from her recent visit to the tanning salon and smooth from her recent visit to the waxing castle. Not that she planned on showing all this to William, but a girl had to be prepared.

She rummaged through her closet once again and pulled out a black mini-skirt and a dark red top with a cowl neck--strategically created to slide sexily over one's shoulder if one so desired. Smoothing her hair and putting the final touches of gloss on her lips, she decided that this was the outfit.

And now the shoes...

***

William stood nervously at the door of the Summers home. It's not like he hadn't gone there millions of times for the same reason, picking up Buffy to go somewhere and not date, but every time he got the swirling eddies of nerves reminding him of his feelings. Even when he appeared calm, it was an appearance alone; Buffy never knew how much he agonized over her nearness, her clean scent, her warmth. He breathed deeply and then rang the doorbell.

***

"Oh, shit!" Buffy cried out, in the middle of heaps of black shoes. She pulled out a pair and then quickly barreled down the stairs. She took a moment to compose herself and then opened the door.

Buffy saw William, glasses-free, spiked and bleached hair, looking absolutely delectable. She could barely breathe, he looked so hot. "Fuck," she thought to herself.

William saw Buffy, golden hair and body glowing with beauty, her shirt slightly sliding off her shoulder to expose the creaminess of her skin, making him ache to taste it. "Fuck," he thought to himself.

They both stared wide-eyed at each other for what seemed like hours. It ended up being Buffy's mom to break the silence. "Hello, William. It's good to see you again," she said as she walked down the stairs to greet him. "You've made some changes. They look good on you." Mrs. Summers approached them both and then put a welcoming hand on William's arm.

"Hi, Mrs. Summers. It's good to see you again." William smiled at her, thankful for the distraction.

"So you guys are going out tonight? Buffy's been so busy even in her supposed vacation at home. She's just been coming and going all day." Joyce smiled affectionately at her daughter.

William inwardly groaned. He had hoped that maybe she'd have singled him out in her invitation, but he realized that it was merely wishful thinking. Expected, of course, but he'd had his hopes.

"Yes, mom. We're trying out that new Italian place over by the park." Buffy thanked her mom for her timing. She felt awkward, his look completely throwing her for a loop. She'd always thought of William as cute, her physical attraction to him only second to her ability to feel so connected and comfortable with him. But now? Not that attraction was skyrocketing and going beyond the earth's atmosphere. She felt her cheeks flushing, her body singing with the desire to run her fingers through his hair, feel his body on hers. She'd never felt this way so quickly, and it embarrassed her.

"Oh, yes. I've heard great things about that place. I've also heard it's quite romantic," Joyce said innocently, furtively watching for their reactions. Besides the obvious crush that William had had on her daughter for years, Joyce had had suspicious that her daughter was more than willing to return those feelings. She was merely putting the thoughts in their heads. She smiled when both faces blushed.

"Um, yeah. Well that's not why I chose it," Buffy said quickly, not wanting William to think she'd orchestrated some kind of seduction.

And once again, William's hopes dropped over the cliff of hope and flung itself into the deep waters of despair and self-pity.

"Well, I'm going out as well. I've got to finish setting up for the gallery gala tomorrow. I'll probably be late, so don't be worried if I'm not home by the time you get back," Joyce said, turning to go back up the stairs.

"Oh, okay. Have fun," Buffy called out.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Summers," William said politely.

"Have fun, you two," she responded before entering her bedroom and closing the door.

"Well, you wanna get going?" Buffy asked, grabbing her purse and keys.

"Yeah. Fine." William turned to let Buffy exit first and then closed the door behind them.

"So, still got the honkin' minivan, hey?" Buffy teased as they walked up to the big car.

"Well, it takes me where I need to go. And, you know, roomy for the nights with ladies," William teased, trying to put forth a cocky façade. If he could just keep pretending that he was confident, maybe one day he actually would be.

Buffy wondered how much truth was behind his words. With his bleached hair and contacts, he seemed so different, so confident. She wasn't sure how much he even thought about her. "Lots of dates, huh? Harmony still beating all the others down to be with you?" she joked lightly, hoping he'd scoff at the suggestion.

"Yeah, but I did go on a few dates with her."

Buffy's pit of despair began growing exponentially. She looked at the cars passing by out the window to hide her disappointment. "You did? She must have been thrilled. Are you guys dating now?" She hoped her voice didn't show much emotion.

"No, nothing like that. We went out a few times." "Because she had blond hair like you," he thought silently. "I mean, she's nice and all, a little flaky but not really my type--that's all." He noted the lack of emotion in her voice and braced himself for a night that would end full of friendship but empty of romantic love.

"Oh? And what exactly is your type?" Buffy knew she was asking for heartache in broaching the subject, but she couldn't resist the question he had set up. She wanted to know, if only to figure out how she could still attract him.

William swallowed nervously. "You," he wanted to scream out; he wanted to stop driving, pull over to the side of the road, and kiss her passionately. Instead, he just forced out a laugh and tried to say something witty. "Oh, you know. The body of Charlize Theron with the sexuality of Salma Hayek and the intelligence of Virginia Woolf with a little bit of Mia Hamm's strength. You know. The perfect girl."

Buffy laughed brightly, trying to cover her sinking heart. Salma Hayek? Though he had rambled off a few different women, this one actress stuck in her mind. Salma Hayek was gorgeous and dark in complexion. If that was his type, she wasn't even in the running. She was thankful when they finally pulled into a space at the restaurant. She stepped out of the car quickly and glanced at her reflection in the car window. Frowning at how disconsolate she already looked, she pasted on a smile, determined to look her best even if she felt crappy.

William waited a moment after turning off the ignition. He'd been so tempted to tell her how he felt that it had unnerved him. Maybe he was just tired of pretending his feelings were only of friendship; maybe the past months without her had made him eager to make some kind of change, effect some kind of drastic action to propel their relationship one way or another. He almost didn't care if it meant cutting off the friendship, because at least then he'd have tried, had made his mark instead of silently ebbing into the darkness. Almost. He opened his door and then joined her in entering the restaurant.

***

"So, what happened to your glasses?" Buffy asked after they'd ordered. The restaurant was extremely romantic, with dimmed lights and slow violins and flickering candlelight. She felt almost silly now, convinced that he merely saw her as an old friend, and was trying to get back to that friendly comfortable chatting that they used to be so good at.

"Oh, just got together with a few friends, and we all decided that we'd do a little something for our senior year. So I got contacts and did the hair. Do you think it looks funny?" he asked, his voice heavy with uncertainty.

"No, you look great. You have really nice eyes," she said studying him. She felt the need to be honest, the way she usually was with him. Pretending that she didn't notice only made her feel like she was on a date, and she didn't want to trick herself into thinking that way. "I mean, I like your glasses, too--the whole intellectual look going for you--but the contacts look good. They give you a different look. You know, the Clark Kent/Superman deal. William by day-- by night? We'll have to com up with a nickname." She smiled again, still staring at his face. "Guess I'll have to forget about my rip-off-his-glasses-and-kiss-him fantasy," she thought to herself. She smirked, remembering how she'd dreamed up an elaborate fantasy of seducing him in a classroom where the glasses where haphazardly strewn on the floor.

Feeling her eyes on him, William looked down and toyed with his napkin, wishing that the romantic atmosphere of the restaurant was being fully used instead of merely mocking him with what he couldn't have. Finally he glanced up at her, only to see a slight grin on her face. Had she been joking when she'd complimented him? It angered him, making his temper flare his confidence. She'd just have to realize what she was missing.

"Well, lots of birds have been complimenting me lately. Seems senior year might be my lucky year. I mean, not that the girls haven't already been after me," he crowed, changing his posture to slouch self-assuredly. He flicked his tongue out over his teeth. "Yup, they just can't stay away."

"God, give it up already, Mr. No date," she spat out, suddenly irked by the very thing that usually turned her on. She didn't like thinking about where his tongue had been. She subconsciously frowned, and Spike noticed.

"You know, it's not that incredible to think that girls would like me," he said softly, trying to sound snarky but simply sounding wounded.

She looked up at his tone, trying to figure out if he were still teasing. "Yeah, well, it's not like dating makes your life perfect or anything."

"Bitter, much?" Spike questioned, wondering how much Angel had hurt her. She'd never fully gone into details, but he was surprised at the bite in her words.

"Yeah, well, let's just say I haven't yet been with a guy who treats me the way I feel I should be treated. You know, I'm not asking for much--the ability to have an engaging conversation, the ability to feel like you're understood, the ability to feel attractive and attracted--you know, the usual." "I could have that with you," she thought, sipping from her drink.

"I could be that for you," William thought miserably. He drank his soda to keep him from wallowing too much in self-pity. "Well, I guess you just have bad taste in guys."

"This coming from the guy who dated Harmony?" Buffy scoffed. "Man, I can't believe you actually dated her."

"You know, she's a nice girl, even if she is a little slow. They can't all be like you." William's eyes widened when he realized what he'd said. "Uh, I mean, since you seem to think you're the best that's out there," he covered quickly. He looked at her to see if she'd noticed his slip.

Her heart had briefly lifted in hearing his compliment but sagged once again as it sat comfortably under the umbrella of friendship. All these ideas ping-ponging through her mind were starting to give her a headache. Without realizing it, she began rubbing her temples and sighing lightly.

"Are you okay? Do you have a headache?" William inquired. The night seemed to be flowing kind of awkwardly, and he hoped she wouldn't call it an early night.

"What? Oh, no, I'm just a little tired. Traveling and all," she replied quickly.

"Do you, uh, do you want to head back early? If you're not feeling well?" William asked unwillingly.

"Huh? No! I mean, no, I'm fine. I think it'll be better if I just eat something, maybe drink some caffeine or something. No big," she reassured him. She smiled at him and was rewarded with his smile, making her insides ooze just a little.

And then, Buffy decided. Her relationship with William had always been good because she hadn't worried about being someone different. Her comfort with him was largely based on her confidence when she was around him; she knew he wouldn't treat her poorly or laugh at her thoughts because they'd developed a strong friendship first. Angel, Parker, Riley--all those other guys had pursued her actively, had made it clear that they were only interested in her as a girlfriend--and that had interesting connotations to them. William had made her feel like a person, someone whose presence was more than just a pretty face and a sex-giving body. William was different. Maybe she was different around William? Either way, she was going to fight for this; she was going to see if there was a possibility for something more. Not just yet, not here at the restaurant, but later, at the park--Buffy was going to push the limits of William's shyness, see if he'd be willing to venture towards a different kind of friendship. And if he was too shy? Well, then she was going to kick him into gear.

She smiled again, satisfied with her plan.

Just then, the food arrived.

"Wow, this looks amazing!" She gasped as the large bowls of pasta, side salads, and freshly baked bread appeared before them.

"Yeah, looks right tasty," he agreed. "Bon Appetite!"

The next few moments were in silence, both overwhelmed by how good the food was.

"Is it good?" William asked after a while.

"Amazing. Good food, good company--what more could a girl ask for?" Buffy proclaimed, smiling coyly at him.

William blushed and tried to cover his delight. "Well, you know, that's what all the girls say when they're with me," he boasted, putting on a cocky façade to hide his lack of confidence.

"So you keep telling me. You know, you got out of my question earlier, but maybe you'll answer now. What is your type? And no comparisons to Hollywood, because that's just not real." Buffy stopped eating for a moment and looked at him directly, implying that she wasn't going to let this go.

William swallowed and glanced at her, seeing her face set with resolve. "What do you mean, type? I mean, it's not really that I have specific qualities she has to have. It's more about sensing the connection, knowing that she'll laugh with me and not at me, that she'll understand me and still love me. You know, all that sentimental rot," he said lightly, trying not to get too involved in his answer.

"But you don't have any particular preferences? You have to. Everyone does. So, I'm going to lead you through a series of questions, and you have to answer with whatever comes to mind first. Got it?" She innocently took another bite of pasta as her mind schemed questions to get him thinking. Plus, she still wanted to know if he had even the slightest bit interest in her. Salma Hayek aside, there had to be some truth to all the rumors that William loved her.

"Come on, Buffy. Is this really necessary? I mean, I know--I will know--when she's the one. The one I want to date and cherish and love. I don't need questions to help me figure it out." William defiantly stabbed at his pasta, hoping she wouldn't keep on this. He was afraid that his feelings might start to leak, and a leak would ultimately lead to the dam bursting all over her.

"No, it'll be fun. And you can ask me the same questions afterwards, if you want." Buffy smiled and wiped her mouth delicately on her napkin. "Ready?"

"If I must." He ran his fingers through his hair and then gestured to her to begin.

"Ooh, that's nice," Buffy noted as she saw his fingers rumple up his hair. "Maybe I'll get to do that," she thought, smiling. "Okay. Here goes. Blonde or brunette?"

"Blonde."

"Tall or short?"

"Short."

"Brown or blue?"

"Neither."

"Green or hazel?"

"Hazel."

"Older or younger?"

"Older."

"Perky or large?"

"Perky--wait, huh?"

Buffy laughed. "Well, you knew what I was talking about, and you chose quickly, so you know what you want." She laughed again at his flummoxed state. Buffy smiled at him and at herself; she was doing pretty well so far--better than she'd expected.

"Now you know this is a biased quiz," he started, waving his fork at her. "You're not asking the full spectrum of possibilities, so though my answers may point in one direction, it may be by default."

"Even if it is biased, it still says something." She stressed the word 'something' and looked directly at him, searching.

He looked away. "But what?" he muttered softly. Shaking his head, he said, "Okay, it's my turn. You ready for my questions?"

"Always ready," she said pointedly, batting her lashes.

William ignored the butterflies that had suddenly begun thrashing inside him. "Here we go. Blonde or brunette?"

"Blonde, but it doesn't have to be real."

"Brown or blue?"

"Blue all the way, baby."

"Tall or short?"

"Somewhere in between."

"Bulky or lean?"

"Lean, and with a six pack."

"Length or girth?"

"Both, you naughty boy!" she retorted, laughing. "God, I can't believe you said that!"

"Oh, but it's okay for you to talk about perky breasts?" William shot back, smiling. His butterflies were now doing a jitterbug inside--she seemed to have chosen all of his characteristics--unwittingly, he was sure, but it made a man hope. He chuckled with her and gave her a contented smile.

"Oh, that's it. That's the smile," Buffy thought to herself, his soft lips curving nicely and just begging to be kissed. Her insides began to swirl again, creating psychedelic masterpieces inside in tribute of that smile. "Oh, boy."

"So, are you up for dessert?" William asked after the waiter took away their plates. "Their dessert tray looked pretty tantalizing. We saw it when we walked in, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. I remember. I'm pretty full, but I feel like I should. Maybe we can share something?" she asked simply, hoping he'd say yes.

"Uh, yeah, sure, if that's what you want."

"That's what I want. What did you want?"

"Whatever you want is fine. It all looked good to me." He couldn't wipe the smile off his face. Even if they never became more than friends, he simply loved being with her. Her presence, her joy in little things, just made him happy.

"Well, how about the hazelnut tartuffo? It's got chocolate and ice cream with raspberries all around. Ooh, yeah. That's what I want." Her eyes sparkled in anticipation, and she licked her lips.

"That's what I want," Spike thought as he watched her tongue flick out and wet her lips. "Oh, yeah. That's what I want." He felt himself harden, and he closed his eyes tightly to will it away.

"Hey, you okay?" Buffy asked, having seen him clench his eyes shut.

"Oh, sure. I'm fine. Just got a slight cramp in my leg. Too much soccer the other day," William responded. "Cramp indeed. And soccer might just become my codeword..."

Soccer made Buffy think of his six pack made her think of licking it made her think of going lower made her think of-- "Hey, I'm gonna run to the ladies room. If the waiter comes back, will you order the dessert?"

"Sure." He watched as she left, smelled her faint scent as she passed, soaked in the little shake of her ass
as she walked away. And, of course, his erection returned to mock him. Sliding his hands under the table, he reached into his pants to readjust himself.

In the bathroom, Buffy studied herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were a little flushed, no doubt from her dirty thoughts as much as the warmth of the restaurant. She adjusted her hair a little and reapplied her gloss. She placed her hands on her cheeks, the coldness of her palms bringing a chill to her body. Her nipples began to harden to the chill. "I guess that could be good," she thought to herself. She peed quickly, washed her hands with cold water to keep up the nipplage--because she was evil like that--and returned to the table.

"Did you order? Wow, it seems colder for some reason." Buffy sat in her sat and held her back erect, slightly pushing her breasts out and keeping her arms stiffly at her sides, looking like she was cold.

William noticed her nipples, and his erection pushed against his pants. He breathed out slowly, trying to calm himself. "You're cold? Do you want my jacket--except I don't have a jacket," he said slowly, kicking himself for his stupidity.

"No, it's okay. I'm sure if I just rub myself I'll get warmer," she stated. She began luxuriously running her palms over her arms and tossing her hair back as she tightened her body. In pushing her arms close to her body, her draped neckline began sliding slowly off her shoulder.

William was desperately looking for something to do. There was no food to distract him; his soda was nothing but ice, and Buffy was looking so damn sexy that he was afraid he was going to explode with all the sexual tension building inside of him. He sucked out a piece of ice from his glass and began chewing it to let out his frustration.

Buffy watched him as his tongue poked at the ice to get it in his mouth. She shivered, thinking about how that would feel against her lips, her neck, her--other areas. And the cold of ice combined with the heat of his tongue? If nothing happened tonight, she was going to have to take care of it when she got home.

Finally, the dessert came, and both were eager for the distraction. Of course, they were sharing, so both had to lean in slightly to partake of the delectable dessert. Buffy spooned a portion of it and slowly licked it before putting the whole spoon in her mouth. She imagined that she was kissing William, the cold ice cream his tongue, and she savored the taste. William watched as she ate her ice cream in a way that made him lick his own lips. He shoved the spoon in his mouth to give him something to feel.

Any innocent observer would've wondered what was going on under the table to merit such steamy eating, but the two were completely lost in their own fantasies at this point, too embarrassed and too horny to talk.

When there was nothing left of the meal, they finally made eye contact.

"So, guess we both liked the dessert," Buffy murmured, embarrassed by her scandalous thoughts.

"Yeah, must have. Licked the plate clean," he commented, blushing at the thoughts he'd been having about eating ice cream off her breasts.

"Check, please!"

Ch. 3: Under the Stars

The cool air felt delicious on her flushed skin, and Buffy briefly closed her eyes, letting the air lick her neck and face. She walked quietly next to William towards the car, wondering what they were going to do next, whether the night was over, whether she'd get the chance to have her wicked way with him before she burst. She sighed quietly.

"Something wrong? Tired? Did you want to go home?" William asked nervously. He knew he was probably being overly sensitive to every sound she was making, but his whole body seemed in overdrive, and every sound and touch and taste was quickly pushing him over the edge. It was difficult not completely giving in to the sensations.

"No, not at all. I don't want to go home yet," Buffy said, softly looking up at him. She smiled and then cast her eyes down, continuing towards the car.

William tried not to let his heart leap out too much at her soft voice, soft eyes, soft skin, soft hair...He shook himself and quickly opened the door for Buffy.

She grinned at his gentlemanly actions; she never got used to them--and it never got old--no matter how many times he did it.

He climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. "Where to, then?"

"The park. Let's go to the park," Buffy decided. She opened the window a little to let the night air in. William began to back out of the parking lot, and Buffy settled comfortably into her seat. Leaning back on the head rest, she let the wind caress her and felt her hair sweep around gently.

William glanced over at her and felt the stirrings of a poem inside, not to mention the lower stirrings of a different sort. He never tired of looking at her, of seeing how much she enjoyed the world and all of its delights. That lush living made him both envious and awed--and it was one of the things he loved about her. "The park it is," he stated.

When they reached their destination, all the lights were out, since technically the park was closed after sunset. "Are we going to get in trouble for being here?" William questioned, looking around at the dark meadows and unlit tennis courts.

"Depends on what we're doing," Buffy commented coyly, flashing him a grin before hopping out of the car.

William sat dazed for a moment, trying to quell the sudden possibilities that were flashing through his mind. He slowly followed after her.

"God, what a beautiful night," she breathed, her arms wrapped tightly around her body. "There's just something about night time, you know? Something dreamy and intoxicating and enthralling. Don't you think?" she asked as she turned to look at him.

William's breath caught as he saw Buffy staring at him, the moon full and bright behind her, casting a light glow on her hair. Her eyes waited expectantly for his answer, but he was unable to say anything. Her petite frame standing in the moonlight, looking at him, there with him--it swept through him like a buzzing bolt of electricity. Finally, he spoke. "It's beautiful," he murmured, his blue eyes intently gazing into hers.

Buffy felt her cheeks warm at his gaze, but she couldn't look away, couldn't resist staring back at the blue eyes that penetrated her skin and filled her with its passion. They stood, gazing at each other, the night backdrop paling in comparison to the fiery flames all around them.

Eventually, she broke their eye contact and looked at the moon. "Full moon. 'And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, cluster'd around by all her starry Fays,'" she quoted softly.

William stepped forward, unable to stop looking at her. "'But here there is no light, save what from heaven--'" he murmured as he tenderly pushed a stray hair away from her face--"'is with the breezes blown through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.'"

"You remembered," she said breathlessly.

"How could I not?" he murmured, his hand resting on her shoulder. "You were studying it in class, and you made me read it with you because you loved it so much. We read it together that night when we were snowed in at the library and the librarians wouldn't let us leave. Sat on the floor in the stacks, surrounded by shelves of books, reading it over and over again to make you feel better. And then you wrote it everywhere--on your profile, on your notebook, in your emails..." he teased. "That, and of course the man's a genius and worth memorizing."

"Gotta love Keats," Buffy commented laughingly, her laughter merely a pretense for the nerves that were skittering over her body. The lust had come and receded, lingering but not overpowering, but now in its place was a passionate and throbbing desire to be with him, to love him, to connect to him--because the magnetism, the pull between them seemed so strong that it was almost painful not to touch him, not to acknowledge how much they belonged to each other. Though Buffy had sometimes felt such moments with him, now it thundered over her, forcing her to recognize the attraction. She shivered in the delight of her emotions.

The moment slowly ebbed for William, and he tried to find his way out of the haze of moonlight and unspoken dreams. "I've got a blanket in the car, if you want," he spoke softly, rubbing her arms to warm her.

She melted into his touch and then responded, "A blanket would be perfect. We could spread it on the ground and lie under the stars. Wouldn't that be nice?" She turned to look at him, her sudden movement letting her breasts slightly brush against his hands, their bodies almost touching as she glanced up at him.

William tried not to make his harsh intake of breath be too obvious, her closeness thrilling him and tempting him. She looked so innocent, staring up at him with those large hazel eyes and asking him if he wanted to lie next to her, if he wouldn't mind having her body next to his, the starry sky their blanket. "I'll go get it," he said quickly, almost breathlessly, and he quickly moved towards the car.

Buffy gasped, the sudden loss of his nearness almost causing her to ache with its absence. She moved down into the meadow to a patch of level grass, charting this area to be the spot. William returned, blanket in tow, and they spread it on the ground between them. He looked nervous for a moment, unsure of his next actions. Buffy sympathized with his uneasiness and decided to move first. She kicked off her shoes and sat on the ground. "Come. Lie down." She patted the area next to her and watched as he nudged his shoes off. Once he was seated next to her, she leaned back and lay down completely, her knees still bent as she gazed up into the sky. "So nice."

William hesitating before awkwardly falling onto his back next to her. His neck was still tense, not completely on the ground, and he wasn't sure what to do with his hands. Should he put them behind his head? Too casual? Should he cross them on his chest? Too formal? Should he leave them on his sides? He had no idea, and they were still rigidly pressed against his sides when he felt Buffy's body brush against them. He froze, head an inch above the blanket, knees bent and open, arms completely still.

"You don't mind, do you? It's a little cold." Buffy lightly pressed herself against his body, attempting to use his body to warm herself. She knew it seemed a little cliché, but her plan wasn't quite unfolding the way she wanted, and the night was making her brain all addled and incoherent. William wasn't saying much, and she wondered if she was being too obvious, if she was making him uncomfortable. Should she say something? Or do something? "Um, so, Keats. You like Keats, right?"

William slowly lowered his head to the blanket and forced himself to relax his limbs. She wanted to talk about poetry. Perhaps she was moved by the poetic beauty of the night and not the attraction that he felt was electrifying the air. Yes, that was probably it. He sighed lightly and felt his body slump a little. "Keats is wonderful." He cleared his throat, trying to shift into a more dogmatic, less emotional mood. "He was so prolific in his mere 25 years of age. He lived his passion through his words, since he couldn't through his body."

Buffy smiled at the change in his tone, as if he were trying to move them into more neutral territory. She would have none of that. "Do you know a lot of his stuff by heart?" she asked as she settled even closer to him.

William tensed up again, and soon her closeness began affecting him physically. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about her smooth skin rubbing against his arm. "Actually, I know much of his poetry. I went through a time when he was all I read."

"Yeah, I went through a phase when all I read was Pablo Neruda. Have you read any of his work?"

"Yes. I even tried reading his work in the Spanish, but I'm not that fluent. The translators are pretty amazing as it is." His spirit flagged a little as their conversation began turning bookish.

"I know. Do you have a favorite?" she asked, her face nuzzling his arm slowly.

He knew which one always called to him, always comforted and pained him. He tried not to tense up at her tickling breath on his arm, and with closed eyes he began reciting, his voice soft yet sensuous.

"We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand
while the blue night dropped on the world.

I have seen from my window
the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.

Sometimes a piece of sun
burned like a coin in my hand.

I remembered you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know.

Where were you then?
Who else was there?
Saying what?
Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly
when I am sad and feel you are far away?

The book fell that always closed at twilight
and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.

Always, always you recede through the evenings
toward the twilight erasing statues."

Buffy's body trembled as his voice began to slide over her body, but the sadness of his tone, the quiet resignation that ran through it began to hurt her, grasp at her with desperation. "'Clenched Soul.' But such a sad poem," she noted.

"Life doesn't always bring satisfaction. Sometimes the dreams just recede into the twilight, so elusive," he murmured, the feelings of unfulfilled hunger so usual for him.

"But it can." Buffy propped up on an elbow to look at him and quietly began to recite her own, fluttering her fingers up and down his arm.

"If your eyes were not the color of the moon,
of a day full [here, interrupted by the baby waking -- continued about 26
hours later ]
of a day full of clay, and work, and fire,
if even held-in you did not move in agile grace like the air,
if you were not an amber week,

not the yellow moment
when autumn climbs up through the vines;
if you were not that bread the fragrant moon
kneads, sprinkling its flour across the sky,

oh, my dearest, I could not love you so!
But when I hold you I hold everything that is --
sand, time, the tree of the rain,

everything is alive so that I can be alive:
without moving I can see it all:
in your life I see everything that lives."

Abruptly, William shifted his arm and scoffed at her words. "Stuff of dreams. Intangible, unattainable dreams."

At that moment, Buffy decided it was time. The poetry, the night air, the pessimistic look on William's face--all these things together were pushing her to action, and the entire night had been screaming for some sort of change, some sort of decision to push them one way or another. She was ready to dive in, taste him, stir to motion that irrepressible desire that pulsed against her heart every time she saw him. She swiftly turned and straddled him, her hands pressed on his chest. "What dreams? What intangible dreams?" she asked, seated atop his waist.

William was so stunned he was speechless. Her sudden actions were completely unexpected--he had been ready to finish their discussion of poetry, drive her home, and then spend another night with his hand, the only tangible thing he'd had when it came to Buffy. And now? Was it possible she felt something? He prayed she didn't feel that something starting to stir beneath her. Still bowled over by her position on top of him, he stared back at her wordlessly.

"Well? I mean, do you--I mean, do you feel this?" She waved her hand for effect. "Not just the poetry, not just the night air--but this? Between us?" she asked.

William was still unable to say anything; her face in the moonlight and her body surrounding his effectively rendered him speechless.

Buffy blushed and wondered if she hadn't made a mistake. She took one last try. "Do you want me? I mean, do you like me? Like--" She paused, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Do you like-like me?" she asked, perched atop his body, her face staring down at him in question.

Finally, William found his voice, as well as the ability to move his body. "Buffy, I don't know how to react. I--"

"Oh my god," Buffy breathed, her head falling in shame. She started to move off of him. "I can't believe I--"

"No, don't." He held her still, his hands firmly keeping her thighs around him. "I do," he answered, his voice shaky with nerves. "I do, Buffy. God, like you? I can't believe you didn't know, couldn't see how much." He began caressing her legs, trying to calm himself. "And want you? Always."

Buffy bit her lip, trying not to jump in excitement. Her own attraction was finally reciprocated in a way that couldn't be doubted, couldn't be analyzed away. "Really?" she responded softly. She licked her lips and leaned in a little. "So it's not just me? I'm not crazy for sensing something?"

William breathed in deeply, as if preparing to bare his soul and hope that it wouldn't be whipped. He propped himself on his elbows and narrowed the distance between them. "For so long I thought it was just me, that you'd never see me as anything but a friend, a young friend with a silly crush." He looked away in embarrassment.

"I just couldn't keep pretending that, and especially when I went away. I thought about you so much, but you didn't seem to miss me," she mumbled.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, his forehead touching hers gently. "I didn't want you to think I was obsessed, but I felt at a loss without you, like something was missing."

"Me, too!" Buffy agreed, rubbing her hands along his shoulders. "So when I came back, I thought I'd see you, see if maybe you felt it. But you seemed the same, always so polite and gentlemanly. And all I wanted to do was kiss you silly." Her eyes widened with embarrassment at her confession, and his widened with surprise--and then they darkened with desire.

He swiftly changed their positions, and Buffy found herself beneath him. "Did you?" he murmured as he came closer. "If I'd known, I'd have done it years ago."

Her heart pounded with anticipation as his face neared. "I wish you would have. You never did anything, so I assumed you didn't want to," she whispered.

"You were always with someone else, or talking about someone else. Didn't think you were interested," he said, his insecurity creeping back into his voice, and he moved back slightly.

She reached up to keep him from moving away, loving the feel of his hair in her fingers. "Well, they did--I mean, they made the first move. I assumed that was the guy's job, so I waited for you. And you didn't, so I figured you didn't want to. But I always did--always hoped you would. That you'd break out of that shyness and come after me," she said lightly, playing with his hair.

"Did you, now? Like me to come after you? Not be a gentleman?" William teased as he started towards her again.

"No, just want me enough that it'd make you forget to be one--if just for a while," she teased back, glancing at his lips that were so close.

William gazed at Buffy, her face slightly flushed and her eyes fluttering all over his face. He could barely understand how they had come to this, how she'd ended up beneath him. He was afraid it was all a dream, weaved by the queen-moon in the sky. But if it were a dream, he was going to make it a good one. Slowly, he lowered his head to kiss her.

Buffy held her breath and waited to feel his lips.

And finally, they touched--and the night burst into stars.

She tasted so sweet, her lips easily fitting his and making his whole body come alive. He felt her tongue flutter out and suck his lower lip, and he met it with his own. He kissed her deeply, feeling their tongues melt together and dance in the heat. He felt her fingers running through her hair, and his hand began moving down her body, feeling her supple skin jump at his touch. She moaned, shifting her body to press even more intimately against his. Her sounds made him harden even more, and he couldn't help but rub himself against her. She moaned again, and he plundered her mouth again, aching to taste her warmth. Then he began to kiss her neck, exposed by their movements. He licked at her skin and felt his whole body become heated at the touch. He continued his movement to her shoulder, encouraged by her hands guiding his head.

Buffy was quickly dissolving into a puddle of wetness. His hands, his tongue, his lips--they were so hot against her. She nudged her leg against his so that she could wrap it around him, and her movement pushed them even closer. She felt his hard length pressed against her thigh, and it drove her further into desire. She began kissing his face ardently, running her hands up and down his back, sneaking her hands under his shirt to touch his skin. They both moaned when her hands stroked his back, the direct contact electrifying. William came back to kiss her lips, and they began tangling into each other once more.

Their cries were heady and desperate, and they were unaware of everything around them. It was only skin, heat, touch, desire--nothing else mattered...

...until a beam of light broke the darkness, and a deep voice broke into the noises. Buffy and William turned their eyes towards their intruder, and both froze at the sight of the older policeman peering at them.

"What are you kids doing here? The park is closed."

Ch. 3: Chocolate and Cherries

The ride back to Buffy’s house was quiet, embarrassment and stifled giggles were making for a mixed yet tense atmosphere.

Buffy couldn’t figure out how William felt--whether he regretted their actions or not. They’d both been thoroughly flustered when the police officer asked to see their IDs. They were escorted back to the car and then closely watched as they drove out of the park. She thought the whole situation was rather absurd, but William’s face was still bright red from shame; she wondered if he felt corrupted by the whole affair and wanted nothing more to do with her. She bit her lip and peeked at him. His knuckles were white as they clenched the steering wheel. She turned away to watch the houses go by and figure out how to act next.

William glanced over at Buffy and saw her fidgeting. He sighed lightly, wondering if she were now reconsidering their actions. His body was still thrumming with desire, with the feel of her body against his, and it was all he could do to drive home safely and not pull over her to kiss and stroke and lick every inch of her skin. He tried to concentrate on getting home and figured he’d let her dictate what would happen next; he just wasn’t quite ready to be rejected.

They finally pulled into Buffy’s driveway. Buffy noted that it was empty, which meant her mom really was making it a late night. She tried to hide her excitement at having more time alone with William and leapt out of the car.

William tried not to let his heart crash too hard as he saw Buffy eagerly scramble out of his car. He turned off the engine and followed her to the door.

Buffy entered the house and waited for William to enter after her. She paused, wondering what to do now. Would it be too forward if she jumped right to it? Attacked him while he was still looking around with that shy, slightly embarrassed look on his face? She decided those tactics might be too aggressive, and she didn't want William to think she was only into him for physical release. She walked towards the living room and then turned towards William, who was closing the door.

"Do you want something to drink? Hot chocolate? Tea? Water?" she asked, trying to make him comfortable.

"Um, I guess hot chocolate would be nice. Are you going to have something?" he leisurely walked towards the couch and then sat down.

"Yeah, I'll have something. Go ahead and sit. You can turn on the TV while you wait. I'll be just a minute." She handed him the remote and then headed to the kitchen. She heard him begin to channel surf and put some hot water on the stove. While waiting for the water to boil, she checked the refrigerator and discovered some Cherry Garcia. Popping her head out of the kitchen, she yelled, "Do you want some ice cream?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks." William smiled as he watched her bounce back into the kitchen. Things seemed to be back to normal--which was great in that there was less tension, but not great in that there was less kissing. He looked at the TV indifferently, watching the various shows zip by as they reminded him that nothing good was ever on on a Saturday night.

Buffy quickly made the hot chocolate and then grabbed the mug, the pint of Ben and Jerry's, and a spoon and headed out.

"Here ya go. Probably not as good as my mom's, but I tried." She grinned as she handed him the steaming hot mug.

"I'm sure it's delicious." He smiled back as he reached for it. Their hands touched briefly, but William couldn't quite look her in the eyes yet. He just relished the feel of their brief contact and then blew on the hot beverage.

She sat down next to him, tucking her legs under her and letting her knees brush up against him. "Whatcha watchin?" she asked as she took her first bite of ice cream.

"There's nothing much on. Just reruns and old movies. You want?" He handed her the remote control, which she refused.

"No, you can keep it. Maybe put on MTV or VH1? We could just watch some music videos or something. You know, background music and stuff."

He flipped to the music channels and sat back to drink his cocoa. His channel surfing had been a way for him to release his nervousness in having her so close and not being able to touch her--before it hadn't been a big deal, but now that he'd experienced holding her, kissing, her...it was killing him not to do something, but his fear of rejection choked him--and so he did nothing but sit erect and hope. He put all his energy in to drinking his cocoa and pretended to be thoroughly absorbed by the stupid veejay introducing the next video. Who it was, what song it was--he couldn't tell you. But he was damned if he'd let on how anxious he was.

They waited for the useless commentary to end and the music video to begin, and Buffy digging into her ice cream. Buffy was enjoying the cherries, but she was still deliberating on how to approach William. It was hard to imagine that just moments ago they were on top of each other, tasting each other and feeling each other--and for the first time! Did he not want more? Did he not ache with desire the way she did now that they'd actually crossed the lines of friendship? How could he sit there and sip his cocoa and look as though this were just another night of platonic conversations and suppressed feelings?

They both paused in mid-action when a sensual beat and luxurious piano began to play, dark shadows of gyrating images beginning to appear on screen. The beat was pulsing and erotic, the singer using the music to tantalize the innumerable viewers into watching and wanting and lusting, the way those in the video were surrounding her and ogling. The sex was oozing with every rhythmic throb and piano lick.

Both were transfixed by the tempting images; Buffy was entranced, her spoon of ice cream pausing en route. She kept her eyes on the screen and moved the spoon towards her mouth, only to get half in her mouth and the other half on her cheek. She gasped at the chill on her cheek and her own carelessness. Cursing, she looked around for her napkin, when she felt William's hand on her arm.

As she turned towards him, William reached forward to brush away the ice cream with his thumb. She caught it before he could move away and began gently sucking on it. He moved forward as she surrounded his finger with her tongue, and soon his mouth was on hers. Finally, skin on skin, they gave in to the urges that had been buzzing through their bodies since they had first pulled away in the park.

She thrilled at the warmth of his mouth, her own chilled by the ice cream. The faint taste of cocoa was in his mouth, mixing her own sweet taste of cherries. Their hot and cold tongues melted against each other lazily, tasting each other.

"God, you taste so good," William breathed, kissing her between breaths and pulling her closer.

Buffy smiled and pulled away for a little, just to put down her ice cream and take away his mug, and then she drew close again. "You taste delicious," she purred. "Chocolate and cherries...mmmmm." She kissed him again.

He slid his hands down her waist to settle her on his lap again. As they kissed, he began caressing her sides, his hands becoming more daring with each movement. Eventually he brushed his thumb against her breast, and Buffy moaned into his mouth. She straddled him and began rubbing her sex against him, her hands threading through his hair and playing with his ears.

He began kissing her neck, and Buffy threw back her head, allowing him room to play. Her shirt slid down her shoulder, and he began using his tongue to push down the shirt further. Gone was William's shy exterior; his mind was so addled with lust that the only thing clear to him was his desire to taste every inch of her golden skin. He was so overwhelmed with this desire that he didn't hear the keys jingle in the door.

Buffy did, however, and jumped off of him and onto the couch, smoothing her hair and licking her lips. William looked utterly confused, his mouth still in the shape of a kiss, but soon his mouth opened in shock as he heard the door open.

"Hi, Mom!" Buffy chirped, reaching again for her ice cream and attempting to look composed and relaxed in front of the tv.

"Hey, honey. Hello, William. Did you guys enjoy the restaurant?" Mrs. Summers asked as she entered the living room. She raised an eyebrow at Buffy's flushed face and William's glazed look but said nothing.

"Oh, yeah! Dinner was great. Very yummy." Buffy smiled brightly, as if nothing seemed out of place.

"Well, I'm tired. I'm going to bed now, and I don’t want you staying up too late. Don't keep William out too late, either. It's almost midnight. Not past then, okay?" Joyce said her words lightly, but Buffy could read the warning. She grimaced slightly at her mother's implication and then agreed quickly.

They both watched her mother walk up the stairs and waited for her door to close.

Buffy then flooped back onto the couch, no longer able to pretend anymore.

"Oh, shit! Why does this keep happening?" she moaned. She sighed loudly and dumped her ice cream back onto the table. Tucking her legs under her, she turned to William. "I'm really sorry."

"Sorry?" His face dropped, and he began fidgeting with his shirt tails. "Uh, yeah. I guess we shouldn’t have--"

Buffy quickly sidled next to him and pulled his hands into hers. "No, I'm not sorry we, well, you know." She stared into his eyes. "I'm sorry we keep getting interrupted. It's so frustrating--actually, it's fucking ridiculous--and now you're going to have to go home because my mom's gonna wait for me to go to my room. God, college is so much less restricting." She began stroking his fingers reassuringly.

William smiled shyly and squeezed her hands. "I'm glad you don't regret it. I was really scared for a moment." They held each other's hands for a moment and simply enjoyed each other's warmth.

"Hey, I have an idea! If you're willing, that is." She bounced a little, her idea brightening her smile. "What if you drove me back to school instead of my taking the train? It's only two hours. You could see my dorm and maybe meet my friends and then we could spend some time alone in my room." She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his answer.

"Do you, I mean, would you like that?" His eyes were wide with her implication.

"I do. Would you be able to say you were staying at a friend's house or something, though? My mom's thingy doesn't end till after dinner, so unless you're willing to drive home in the middle of the night, it might be a little tricky."

"I could say I was staying at Xander's. That's not a big deal at all. And I'd love to, if you--"

"I do. William, I've always liked you--so much. You've always been such a good friend to me, and I was just afraid of losing that. When I was planning on coming home, I decided to take the chance; I wouldn't have to see you immediately if you rejected me. But you didn't." She kissed him lightly. "And now I feel like we have all this catching up to do, all this stuff I want to talk about and do." Buffy blushed slightly at her own forwardness.

She looked so cute, and William leaned forward and kissed her deeply. He rested his forehead on hers. "I would love to. I can barely believe all this, and if I actually see you tomorrow, maybe I'll realize it's not just a dream."

Buffy chuckled and then hugged him, loving the strength of his body against hers. Then she stood up and reached for his hand. "Come on. Mom's probably listening for the door. You want to come by the gallery shindig? Free food," she added, trying to entice him.

"Yeah, if you want--" he stopped himself as she rolled her eyes. "Yes. Yes, I would love to." He smiled and began walking towards the door.

"Okay. Meet me there at 7--that way you skip all the boring stuff. You have to wear a tie, though. I'll pack and everything beforehand so that we can go straight from there. That sound good?" She opened the door and leaned on it, looking up at his blue eyes.

"That sounds great." He leaned in to kiss her one more time, still enjoying every touch and sound. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow. Sweet dreams," she whispered, kissing him right by his ear.

Shivers ran through his body, and he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Sweet dreams, indeed." He smiled again and then walked to his car.

After watching his car leave, she ran up to her room and flopped onto her bed. Grabbing Mr. Gordo, she relived the entire night. Buffy pressed her hands against her cheek, feeling their coldness against her heated skin as she thought about their passion in the park and again on the couch. She closed her eyes, imagining what tomorrow might bring, and smiled.

Ch. 5: Car Ride to Heaven

The plastic smile on her face was beginning to ache, joining her feet and her head in the race for pain. Buffy knew what her mother expected of her--the polite and pretty daughter greeting all the patrons of the gallery and explaining various pieces of art when her mother was occupied elsewhere. Unfortunately, that position put her into contact with Angel, her ex-boyfriend.

He seemed to be interested in her enough, checking out her breasts in the low v-neck dress and her thighs in the subtle yet sexy slit running up the side. However, these things were not for him. Buffy stifled a groan when she saw him trying to catch her eye, as if he was expecting her to slip away into a closet for a return to earlier days. She clenched her jaw and smiled again. Where was William?

William was running late. He'd had a difficult time explaining to his mother what he was doing and why he was going to be out all night. He'd decided to tell her the truth, that he was driving Buffy back to school, but he added that she was going to show him around campus. Her school was in the top 10, and William's mother knew it was a school he'd been considering for a while. She finally relented, helping him pack and reminding him of questions he should ask the admissions officer. Finally, a half hour behind schedule, he left the house in a suit, even more nervous than he could possibly imagine.

Those nerves only grew when he saw Buffy--absolutely stunning in a black, slinky dress--talking to Angel. Those nerves grew into worries grew into insecurity, and he was about to turn back and leave a message on her cell phone when he saw Mrs. Summers.

"William! So glad you finally made it. Buffy's been quite worried." Joyce led him in before he could reply. "She's been such a dear, talking to everyone and keeping up conversations when I know she's been waiting for you. You'll be good to her, won't you?"

Her last question had a soft edge, and William looked up sharply, wondering how much she knew. Mrs. Summers looked at him with understanding and with a bit of a warning--which both reassured him and scared him.

Joyce looked at the young boy and smiled. He would take care of her daughter, she was sure. Placing her hand lightly on his back, she led him to Buffy and then returned to her other guests.

"William!" Buffy exclaimed when she finally saw his face. Her eyes brightened, and her smile became genuine. Not even waiting for Angel to finish his sentence, Buffy turned to greet William. She took his hands and clasped them gently. "What took so long?" she asked quietly, turning her eyes fully on him.

"Mother had a lot to say before I left. She wants this college visit to be productive," he answered, smiling sheepishly. His thoughts of insecurity were drowned by his poetic praise of the beauty in front of him, and he felt compelled to compliment her. "You look fabulous."

Blushing slightly, she replied, "That's what I was going to say. You make suits look yummy." She licked her lips for emphasis.

"So, William, how's high school treating you?" Angel broke in, slightly disturbed by the intimacy of their conversation and by their complete disregard of his presence.

Buffy pursed her lips and then mouthed an apology to William before turning to include Angel in their conversation.

That little act bolstered his self-confidence, and William easily answered, "Quite well, thanks. Just counting down the days till I can graduate and move on to brighter, better days." He gave Buffy's hand a squeeze, not caring whether Angel saw.

Angel did see, and it irked him. Who was this silly, bleached high school kid trying to move in on his ex-girlfriend? Not that he still had feelings for her, of course, but it was really the principle of the matter. He was about to say something to cut into that smug smirk of William's, but suddenly Buffy turned away from him, taking William with her and leaving him alone. He glared at the retreating couple, as if his eyes could hurt them, and then huffed off to find someone worthy of his company.

"I can't believe you just walked away from him. Didn't your mother teach you to play nice?" William teased, more than happy to leave the conversation.

"I just couldn't talk to him any longer. I was stuck there for twenty minutes before you showed up, and I wasn't going to stick around if I didn't have to. Besides, I haven't really given you a proper hello," she purred as she led him into the hall outside the reception area. Her eyes twinkled as she leaned in to give him a kiss.

William smiled against her lips, savoring the feeling of her in his arms, of her wanting him in his arms. His smile gave way as he opened to greet her tongue hello, tasting the sweetness of her mouth.

It was a slow kiss, but the slow pacing of it only made the torturous building of the fire more roaring in its intensity. When they finally parted, each panted with yearning, gazing into each other's eyes for more.

"We should get back. I promised my mom I'd stay for another half hour or so." She pulled him back towards the crowd. "But when we leave, when we get back to my dorm room," she confided with a toss of her hair, "then I'm not going to stop." She kissed him again before returning to the guests.

William's eyes widened with her implications. He had imagined but not actually believed what might happen in a room unfettered by mothers and police officers and curfews. He blew out his breath slowly, shoved his hands into his pockets, and then followed after his girl.

Each minute passed with excruciating slowness. Finally, the two said their goodbyes and headed to the car. Giddy with anticipation, Buffy started sprinting into the parking lot. William caught her easily and reached for her, twirling her in the air with laughter. Before her feet touched the ground, her lips touched his and exploded with fervor, the minutes slowly releasing the torturous restraints of the evening. Tongues raged, teeth clashed, hands groped, and hearts throbbed as they sank into each other.

"Easy," Buffy breathed when she finally broke their kissing. "Gotta save some for when we get back," she teased, her lips swollen and smeared.

"Oh, don't worry. I have years of wanting stored away," he responded, nuzzling her neck.

She chuckled and then touched her feet to the ground. "How fast can you get there?"

***

In record time, they reached the college. They power-walked from the parking garage to the dorm. They skipped up the stairs to avoid idle waiting in front of the elevator. They ran from the stairwell to the room. At last, they stepped into her room.

And suddenly anxiety crept in, paralyzing William with uncertainty.

Buffy had burst into the room with lusty energy, kicked off her shoes, and threw her bag in a corner; William had entered, dropped his bags, and stood with a look of uneasiness on his face.

When she finally stilled her movements, Buffy noticed William's stiff posture and approached him, not stopping until her body rested against his. She saw his nervousness, his insecurities shining on his vulnerable face. Not wanting to sound condescending, she said nothing and merely wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him in for a kiss. She infused her tenderness and passion into the kiss, hoping that the touch would salve his worries and reassure him of her affection for him. Slowly, he began to respond, tightening his arms around her waist and reaching out with his tongue.

Their kisses were deep and unhurried, each luxuriating in the other's touch. Buffy continued to caress his lips while reaching for his tie. She lazily tugged at it, enjoying the feel of it slipping from his collar. It finally pulled free, and she let it drop to the floor, not giving it a second thought. She then turned to his shirt, again taking her time as she untucked his shirt and began unbuttoning it.

William enjoyed the slow pace of their kisses. It allowed him to taste her fully, to delight in the tiny moans and slight tensing muscles as they orally pleased each other. His heart was beating wildly as she worked his clothes off, and it took all his focus to keep her mouth on his. With each kiss he poured his soul into hers.

God, his mouth was so amazing. She loved how he sucked her in, made her feel precious and delicious with every stroke of his tongue. Her fingers began to tremble as she fumbled with his pants, but eventually the button came undone, and she eased down the zipper over his hardness. They fell to the ground, joining the rest of his clothes.

When William realized his nakedness, he followed Buffy's lead and began running his hands up her back, looking for the zipper. As the dress fell fluidly to the ground, he toed out of his shoes and socks.

Both merely clad in undergarments, they paused to peruse each other's bodies. The slow gaze was almost as stimulating as touch, skin aching to be caressed. William could no longer resist and pressed her body to his, and he moaned softly as skin sizzled against skin.

Buffy gasped at the touch of his bare body against hers. Though still clad in her bra and panties, she could feel his skin searing her own. It thrilled her and thrummed through her. She stepped away to pull him towards the bed, keeping her eyes fixed on him, unable to tear away.

Gliding towards her, he took in her beauty, her breasts and her hips and her thighs and her hair, all yielding to his gaze. He breathed in slowly, not wanting to get too excited. He held his breath as she pulled him onto the bed on top of her. The kissing began again, like a slow-moving glider soaring above the powerful ocean. Their languid touches hid the molten desires running just under their skin.

He ran his fingers up the side of her body, skimming the bra that skimpily covered her breasts. Using his tongue, he slipped in and sucked on a nipple, pulling it out of its casing. Buffy moaned and cradled his head in her hands, urging him on. She rubbed her calves against his, needing to feel his hard flesh against her soft skin.

Every whimper made him more confident, reassuring him that he was bringing her pleasure, and harder, more aware of how his body was afire and hers was fueling it. He continued to taste her breasts and then swept his hand down her body, relishing the feel of her lace-clad skin. Finding the pulse of her form, he slowly smoothed his fingers against her slit, and her increased moaning only pushed him further; he delighted in how she pressed against him, how she moistened with his movements. The lace was no longer enticing; it now blocked his sensations in feeling just how much she wanted him. She took off her bra while he tugged at the panties, and she quickly lifted her hips to help him in removing the flimsy obstacle.

She was lost in him, open and exposed to his lips and tongue and hands and body; she felt that, as the older one, she should work on him, pleasure him, make him scream and moan and beg--but he was just so amazing with his touches and talented with his tongue and, oh god...

He loved that she was completely vulnerable to him, that her body was open to his perusal and exploration. Her head was thrown back, her eyes were closed, and her body responded to every touch--it made him feel very powerful. His own moans were drowned in his suckling of her breasts, and his fingers dove into her wetness, hitting the heat of her clit with each sweep. Her liquid arousal clung to his fingers, and he painted her pussy with the strokes of an artist. Her moaning created the soundtrack to his motions, and William focused all of his energies on making her come in his hands. He allowed his instincts to take over, not knowing for sure what would bring about her climax, and he began exploring her inner walls with his fingers, using his thumb to keep circling her button.

"Oh, god, William," Buffy breathed, her body curling to meet his fingers. She tightened her hold on his head, her other hand gripping the iron frame of the bed. She could feel herself squeezing inside itself, not wanting to let go of the delicious sensations zooming through her. And then she had to taste him, had to have something in her mouth while these vibrations were filling her. She pulled up his head and smothered his mouth with her own, her tongue filling him with heated desire.

"Mmm," he moaned as he sampled her tangy sweetness. He could feel her start to slip, but he wanted to make it last, draw out the height of her climax. He slowed his movements deliberately, pressing into her.

He was torturing her, not letting her zip off the cliff of ecstasy. No, he was making her beg, making her tense even more so that when he finally let go she was going to fly through the air with the momentum of a speeding train. And it made her mouth water with anticipation. Tighter, tighter, higher, higher, and--

"Oh fuck!" she screamed as the orgasm tore her threw her, hurling her through the air in a burst of sexual potency. "William!" she howled as her body shuddered with the aftermath of orgasmic tremors. She pressed her body against hers, needing something to ground her.

His face was buried in her neck, her pulse skittering against his cheek. When her body finally stilled, she drew him in for a soft kiss, her skin flushed with passion. He raised himself on his elbows, his cock throbbing against her thigh, and he looked into her eyes, wanting to see her desire. She was so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful. He wanted to sink into her, thrust his cock into her and join in the beauty that enthralled him so.

William pulled off his underwear and then sat back on his heels while unwrapping the condom, his hands beginning to shake with nervous anticipation. Buffy calmed his erratic movements and took the condom from him, quickly disposing of the wrapper and then encasing his penis in the rubber. She kept her eyes on him the entire time, increasing the passion in his soul. She pulled his body against hers, spreading her thighs to invite him in, and then waited.

William closed his eyes for a moment, wanting to savor the sound of her breathing, the scent of her arousal, and the feel of her skin beneath him. When he opened his eyes, he saw her before him, watching him with adoration and longing. He held his breath and then eased himself into her, not wanting to rush, but when he felt her squeezing him and pulling him in, he could no longer resist. He thrust into her, further deepening their connection.

"Yes...." she sighed as she felt him plunge into her wetness. God, he felt so amazing, the way he fit into her and slid against her.

Their lovemaking was slow and sensual--she could feel every thrust and every slight swirl of his cock inside of her. They lips met in luscious kisses, their hands caressed in loving touches. Surging his hips into her, William felt his body stoking the rising fire within him. His body began to move faster, and he clasped her hand so that they could fall together, as one.

Buffy began to breathe faster--his thrusts were hitting her so pointedly that she felt the churning hints of another orgasm, and she wanted it. She wanted it so much. She opened her legs further, wrapping herself around his hips and making him push deeper and deeper. One hand in his, the other on his ass urging him on, she rode him with fervor, running after the climax with heightened speed. Hurdle after hurdle, she felt her body quicken and tighten in expectation, knowing the prize was just out of reach.

William could feel her fluttering around him, squeezing and clenching him, and then--

"Oh, god--Buffy, love," he moaned as he felt himself spurt out his bliss into her.

It was his voice that pushed her over, his voice saying her name with that breathy, lusty voice. "William," she yelped, her voice trembling. She felt her body receive all of him, squeeze him till there was nothing left, and then ooze to the ground in utter contentment. She rolled her hips under him, easing their bodies to a halt, till she could no longer move. She exhaled loudly, signifying her exhaustion, and pulled him close, not wanting him to move just yet. "Mine--my William," she mumbled into his body, giving in to the fatigue.

William had no complaints, his whole body being spent, and he savored the sound of Buffy's heart racing in her chest. Eventually, though, he knew he'd have to leave, if just for a moment or two, and he pushed himself up. Buffy was barely conscious, merely whimpering for warmth when he left her bed. He cleaned up a little and then returned to the comfort of her arms. Buffy purred contentedly, nuzzling his chest and finding a comfortable pillow in his body.

"Love you," William whispered, knowing that this--her head on his chest, her hand on his hip, their fingers lightly interlaced--this was heaven. Kissing her tenderly, he fell asleep, content that his dreams--their dreams--would now take flight in reality.

THE END