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It turned out that when you were both horny and nervous beyond the telling of it, an hour really just crawled by.

Buffy shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She and Spike had danced twice since the slow dance that had resulted in making out in a dark corner, but neither time had been as magical, and she was starting to wonder if losing her virginity to him on Halloween night was a good thing.

Not that she didn’t want to, because she did. But she was also kind of scared, and just a little worried that maybe she wasn’t doing the right thing. Part of her thought that they should wait.

But every time they got within five feet of each other, they both got unbearably horny. Didn’t that mean that the next logical step in their relationship was sex?

She sighed. It did, and she knew it. So...why was she so damn nervous?

Fingers brushed her shoulders. She jumped before realizing that they belonged to Spike. “Sad thoughts, pet?”

She shrugged and put on a bright smile. “Just impatient.”

This had to be right. It just had to be.

She shivered when his lips brushed her neck. “A few more minutes is all, and then we’ll say we’re knackered an’ head on home,” he promised.

As his lips continued to play, her head fell back. When he did things like that, all the nervousness went away.

“And in the meantime,” he added, devilry in his voice, “Just watch Little Miss Popular an’ her date. They’re right funny, they are.”

Buffy giggled. Cordy and Lorne had been having dramatic fashionita heart-to-hearts for the entire dance so far and showed no signs of stopping. They’d moved on from Vuitton to the agonies of high heels—Faith and Tara were both watching them, Faith with a huge grin, and Tara with a look that said what Buffy was thinking: she didn’t even want to know how Lorne knew about high heels.

“Yeah, bet this is the best date Cordy’s ever had. Finally, someone who understands her.” She giggled again, watching Lorne place his hands over his heart dramatically.

“Now, now, pet, don’t get catty.” He placed a hand on her waist, squeezing gently, his tone amused. She grinned at him unrepentantly.

“Oh, come on. She totally deserves it.”

“Damn straight.” Faith, apparently having tired of watching Cordy and Lorne’s tête-à-tête, plopped down next to the blonde duo. “My plan completely backfired, yo. I thought she’d be freakin’ out by now.”

“Wait—your plan? You planned this?”

“Hell yeah, B. Whisper in the right ears, and all of a sudden everybody thinks Queen C’s got herself a case of temporary syphilis.” Faith grinned broadly.

Buffy laughed incredulously. “You didn’t,” she said, but her eyes shone with approval.

Spike shook his head. “You bints’re insane,” he informed them.

Buffy snuggled him. “That’s why you love us,” she told him, staring into his eyes. The room was rather dark, and colors were dim at best thanks to the tacky disco ball hanging from the ceiling, but she was sure she could see the deep blue of his eyes all the same.

For a breathless moment their eyes stayed locked, communicating silently. She could feel his want, both in his gaze and poking her bottom, just as she was sure he could feel his. And in addition to lust she read something else in his eyes—something that made her shy away every so slightly. It was deep, it was dark, and it went beyond anything she’d ever experienced. Seeing it in his eyes was frightening.

Feeling it in her heart, though, was worse.

Which was why she hurriedly broke the rapport between them and called out to Lorne, “Hey, Lorne! Why aren’t you dancing?”

Lorne, oblivious to the intense staring that had been going on, smiled at her and said, “Well, sweetie, no one’s asked me just yet. Is that an offer I hear?”

Buffy looked over at Spike questioningly. He smiled and said, “Have fun, kitten.”

She grinned and stood up, delighted that she’d be able to have some nice, non-intense fun. “Well, come on, then. Let’s shake it!”

“Sure thing. Doesn’t your gorgeous hunk of blonde beefcake want to come?”

Buffy laughed outright at that. No one could cheer her up quite like Lorne. He was great at lightening things up. “Sorry, I don’t think he wants to be ogled today.” She giggled at the black look on Spike’s face.

“Ah, well, the best laid plans of mice and men…” Lorne sighed dramatically before holding his hand out to Buffy. “Shall we?”

*

Spike watched Buffy dancing with what he knew was a moody look on his face. It was a familiar scenario—which, considering that she was now his girl, was distinctly disturbing.

For a second there, he’d been sure he’d seen just as much love in her eyes as he himself felt—but then she’d looked away. It frustrated him to no end. Why was she so skittish? It wasn’t like they hadn’t both been burned. After the disaster that was their parents, they should’ve both needed some pretty intensive therapy. Yet it was Buffy who ran scared at the idea of love.

“So, stud, what’s on your mind?”

Spike sighed. “Faith, when’d you lose your virginity?”

Faith shrugged. “I dunno…when I was ‘bout fourteen. Why’s it—holy shit! B’s a friggin’ virgin?”

“Uh, yeah.” He exhaled slowly. He oughta feel awkward, talking to his friend about his sex life, but if anyone could offer advice, it would be Faith. She definitely knew enough about the subject.

“Is she givin’ it up tonight?”

Despite the flippant words, Faith’s tone was serious; Spike answered in kind. “Says she wants to.”

“Do you?”

He arched a sardonic eyebrow at her.

“Well, okay, I know you are. What I was askin’ is…right. Bear with me here, because this question is totally health class. But—do you think she’s ready?”

He nearly growled in frustration. “See, that’s what I was thinkin’ before. But how in hell can she not be ready when she drags me over to the corner and practically rapes me?”

“Do you love her?”

“What’s that got to do with it?’ Spike grumbled. He’d had a nice little rant going on there…”And when the bleeding hell did you get so bloody perceptive? It’s a bit scary, y’know?”

Faith put her hand over her heart. “See, now I’m hurt. I’ve got mad skills, buddy. If there’s one thing I know about, it’s sex.”

Since he’d just been thinking the same thing in his head a minute ago, he couldn’t really disagree. “So spill your wisdom, O wise one,” he said with a smirk.

“’k, then.” Faith leaned back, not in the least perturbed by his teasing. “You got bouncy with Drusilla when you were what, 14?”

“Um, yeah,” he said, shifting uncomfortably.

Faith saw his discomfort. “Hey, if you’re a slut, so am I,” she said with another grin. “Anyway, my point is, by then you’d been knocked around by your dad forever.”

“Yeah?” he prodded, more than a little irritated at the mention of his git of a father.

“Well, you got—you know—what’s the word? Older, bigger—“

“More mature?” Spike supplied.

Faith snapped her fingers. “Mature, right, that’s it! You got way mature faster than any of us. But B…man, she’s been living in dreamland for years. She only wised up a few weeks ago. Give her some time before you guys fuck.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” he exclaimed through gritted teeth. “But if she wants to, what in hell am I s’posed to do, refuse her? You know it’d kill her!”

He sighed. “It’s just...complicated,” he admitted, slumping down in the chair.

“Least you’re thinking about it,” Faith mused, tracing the top of a cheap glass filled with punch that someone had left at their table. “Lotta guys wouldn’t even bother—they’d get straight to the good stuff.”

“Yeah, but with her, might not be good.”

Faith rolled his eyes. “Trust me, those guys don’t give a fuck about how she feels afterwards.”

When he realized fully what she was saying—that she was glad he wasn’t the type of guy who’d just get into Buffy’s pants for the hell of it and laugh at her afterwards—he felt rage fly through him. Not at Faith, of course; her advice was spot-on. No, he just felt a blinding, deadly fury towards anyone who’d dare touch his girl and then throw her away like she didn’t matter.

Well. That certainly boded well for their relationship, didn’t it? Him worrying about her “readiness” like they were in some Victorian novel one second, and then the next turning into that mad Yank Charles Manson at the mere thought of someone using her. At this rate, the psychiatrists’ couch was gonna get pretty damned familiar…

He heard the song end and sighed. Things were no clearer than they had been when Buffy left his lap. He still wanted her like he wanted to breathe, was still dying to finally have her on his bed, beneath him, surrounding him.

But what about the after? He didn’t just want her just the once, or until he got tired of her. He wanted her for keeps. Hell, he was only eighteen, and he knew that his bastard of a Da, along with half the adult population in the world, would smile and call what he was feeling “puppy love”—but he knew it wasn’t. He trusted her with everything, loved everything she was, and would die for her in a heartbeat. If that wasn’t love, then Spike was stumped as to what was.

The only problem—well, not the only problem, but the problem currently bitch-slapping him in the face—was that he wasn’t sure she felt the same, and if she did, he wasn’t sure she was ready to accept it.

Damn. Hadn’t he thought that just a few minutes ago? Now his thoughts were going round in circles. This couldn’t be good...

He was about to obsess some more when a laughing Buffy deposited himself on her lap. Faith grinned and slapped him on the back. “Later, stud.”

“So.” She grinned at him. “Ready to go?” Her hand slipped down his back, coming to rest right above the waistline of his jeans—and God help him, he wanted it to go lower.

“Buffy.”

His tone of voice was serious; she immediately became so. Sliding her hand back up to his shoulder, she said, “Yeah?”

“I—I care ‘bout you,” he said, so quietly that even as close as they were he knew he could barely be heard over the pounding music.

She met his eyes squarely. In them he’d seen fear, friendship, affection, mischief—every emotion under the sun but one.

Did she love him? Could she love him? Could I act any more the poncey poet if I slipped right back into the tweed suit? Is she even wearing any knickers under that outfit? All pretty good questions…

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I care about you too, William,” she whispered. For once, his given name didn’t sound poncy and weak. It couldn’t, not when she was saying it.

Her hand curved down again, this time slipping into his pocket and squeezing. He clutched her waist as sensations roared through him.

“Bloody hell,” he said in a voice that even he knew sounded strangled, “You tryin’ to kill me, luv?”

She grinned. “Not yet,” she purred, before pulling him to his feet. “C’mon, Billy Idol,” she said, running her fingers through his spikey hair. “Let’s go so I can show you just how much I do care.”

Sodding hell, he thought again as she dragged him to the door. Her touch was firm, confident—her body, at least, was as ready for his as his. Excitement shot through him. Guess it’s time.

~*~

Buffy was actually sort of worried about the whole making love thing. Spike Jr. was making it kind of obvious that Spike really, really wanted her, but what if his brain didn’t want to, didn’t think they were ready yet? Given that he was a teenaged guy, she thought it was kind of unlikely…but this was Spike. He’d said and done some things that no normal teenage guy did. Why shouldn’t he be reluctant to make love with her?

But when he slammed her against the car door and kissed her even harder and more desperately than he had in her foyer, she realized that he wasn’t exactly a reluctant participant in this whole making love thing.

She poured her whole self into the kiss, trying to help him. She hadn’t been his biggest enemy for three years without learning a thing or two about him—he’d been nervous back there, worried about her. Why, she wasn’t exactly sure, but after the whole “I care about you” thing—well, she’d just have to put all her concentration into showing him how un-reluctant (eager? Wasn’t that what eager meant? She was having a little trouble thinking…) she was.

His hands snaked down to her thighs just as she grabbed his ass—they moaned simultaneously. They’d touched before, of course, but now, knowing what was about to happen—it made every caress so much more intense.

After a few minutes of some truly amazing lip action, Buffy broke away. God, he was the only person who could make her forget that she kind of needed to breathe to live…

“Drive home,” she managed to get out, staring at the pavement in front of her. Well, she couldn’t stare at him, could she? Every time she caught even a glimpse of the whole 70’s bad boy thing she turned her underwear into Lake Michigan. Uncomfortable in a big way. Of course, if we just got in the car and I took them off…nu-uh. Bad Buffy, she scolded herself mentally. You are not going to be devirginized in a car, even if it is the car of a seriously sexy guy that you’re about to have hot steamy sex with anyway… Almost unconsciously, she whimpered.

That must’ve been the last straw for him, because right after the whimper, she blinked, and the next thing she knew, she was sitting in the passenger seat, he was jamming the key into the ignition, and they were leaving Sunnydale High so quickly that they almost hit the brick sign on their way out.

“Hey!” Buffy shrieked as he veered to avoid it, “Like killing the welcome sign wasn’t bad enough!”

He shot her a smirk. “You know you loved it,” he shot back.

“I didn’t even realize it was you,” she grumbled, even though she totally had. Rumors had been flying around the town for weeks about who knocked down the precious sign. Buffy had known—or thought she’d known—that Spike was the biggest butthead ever, and he’d come to town the same day the sign had been knocked down. For her, it wasn’t exactly rocket science.

“Liar,” he accused, amusement laced with the ever-present lust entering his voice.

She stuck her tongue out at him. She didn’t mean it to be sexy, she really didn’t. She stuck her tongue out at Dawn all the time!

But as soon as it appeared, the car swerved, jumping up onto a sidewalk. Buffy almost screamed before he managed to right the car. “Okay, you are so trying to kill me, aren’t you?” she got out, still clutching the seat.

“’Course not, Blondie,” he said with the familiar smirk. “That comes later.”

You could tell she was horny when even his usual innuendos totally turned her on.

Buffy turned to the window in a mock pout; inside she was grinning wickedly. Note to self: keep tongue in, she thought smugly. Because for some reason—well, okay, I know the reason—my boyfriend thinks it’s super-hot.

Her smile widened when the car slowed, and then stopped, in front of Spike’s house.

He cut the ignition and leaned back, clearing his throat nervously. “Here we are,” he said in what to Buffy’s ears was a tone of forced casualness.

“Yup,” she said, just staring at him. God, she wanted him so bad…

“Wanna come—er, I mean, d’you wanna go in?”

“Sure,” she said, still forcing herself to be nonchalant even though now that they’d arrived, she was just as nervous as he.

“Right, then.” He got out, walked round, and opened the door for her. When she grabbed his hand and he pulled her out and towards him, tangling her up in another kiss, she moaned and leaned into him.

Funny how, even though her feet were firmly planted on solid ground—even though now she could feel the door pressing up against her back, even as a very horny Spike pressed up against her front—funny how even with all the contrary evidence, she felt like she was falling. Even funnier how she wasn’t sure if Spike was falling with her or not.

And funniest of all? She didn’t care. Because as they stumbled into the house together, as clothes began to be shed before they even reached the stairs, she wasn’t concerned with falling at all. All she wanted, all her entire body and mind and heart was focused on, was him. Spike. Her former enemy.

And now—a happy smile curved her lips, pressed hard against his.

Now he was hers. Maybe not forever, not yet anyway, but for a little while. For now.

I just hope that’s enough.

~*~

A/N: Don’t worry, the psychoanalyzing/annoying preaching/Impending Shoe of Angsty Doom part of the story is almost over. Promise. Next up is a sex scene, in case you were kind of stoned when you read this so you couldn’t tell =D And I’ll try to have that up before I go on the Computer Exodus 2005, also known as my suckass family having no Internet for awhile due to moving…so review, please! And thanks as always to the wonderful, amazing, fantastic, every other good adjective I can think of people who reviewed the last chapter. I love you guys! (And sorry for the weirdness of this note—it’s almost midnight and I’m practically schizophrenic right now.)





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