Chapter 30
It’d been a month since she moved out, a week shy of them breaking up. If breaking up is what one could call it. They’d never called each other boyfriend and girlfriend, they’d had sexual relations without actually doing the deed, and yet Spike still felt the rawness of their split as if it’d just happened the day before.
“Why don’t you go see her then? You want to, and I’m sure
she wants to see you as well,” Wesley Wyndham Pryce, the
British poetry MC, told Spike after the reading that night.
“Yeah, Spike, really. What have you got to lose?
When was the last time you saw each other?” Fred Burkle,
Wesley’s girlfriend, said gently placing a hand on his arm and
giving it a supportive squeeze. Her brown eyes were filled
with empathic understanding.
Spike sighed. “It’s been a few weeks. After she
moved out, we met up for coffee once and I haven’t seen her
since then,” he sighed heavily. “I miss her,” he said softly,
resting his chin on his arms stacked in front of him on the
table.
Fred patted his head, “Go see her. I’m sure she’ll
want to know all that you’ve been up to.”
Spike smirked, “Will she consider me done
baking?”
“Not with that attitude,” Wesley interjected,
frowning, his blue eyes disapproving. “Do you think it’s
possible that at this point you can both bake together instead
of apart however?”
Spike sat up straighter. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll
have to go see the girl.”
Buffy stared at the TV, picking at her ice cream
that was rapidly melting. She sighed and changed the
channel once again. Yep, still crap on the tube. The knock on
her door caused her to jump. She looked down at the carton
of ice cream, at the TV and then at herself. She looked like a
slob, but what did it matter? Tossing the ice cream on the end
table, she pushed the hairs falling out of her ponytail away
from her face and padded to the door. It was probably Willow
anyway. Not like it was going to be—
“Spike,” she breathed opening the door. She hid
behind the door a bit.
He smiled, “Hi kitten.” He cocked his head to the
side, “What are you doing behind the door?”
She blushed, “I’m a mess.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I lived with you Buffy. I
know how you look first thing in the morning, first thing after
a shower and all of that in between stuff.”
“Yeah, but it’s different now. . .” she shrugged.
“How?”
“I don’t know, it just is. I haven’t seen you in a
while!”
He grinned, “Yeah, I’m here to remedy that. Can I
come in or what?”
She nodded and opened the door wider, letting
him in.
“Watching some crap TV?” he mused as she
shut the door.
“Yeah, you look nice. What were you doing?”
She braced herself for him to tell her he had been on a date.
She could not hold that against him, she could not get upset…
well, she would get upset, but she wouldn’t let it show. She’d
set him free, she had no claim on him anymore.
“Poetry reading tonight.”
She nodded, relief flooding her. “Oh yes, I
remember you telling me about that.”
“Think you might like to come sometime?”
She looked up at him, “You’d want me to come?”
He nodded, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”
She gestured between them, “Well because
we . . . we . . . “
“Aren’t together anymore?” he supplied.
She nodded.
“Well, the way I see it Buffy—you’re still part of
my life. I still want to share things with you. Plus, I want you
to meet my friends.”
She broke into a smile, “New ones?”
He nodded. “Yep. Wesley and Fred. Fred’s a girl
and Wesley’s girlfriend. Both poets and extremely nice.
Wesley and I hit it off straight away since he’s from the
mother land too.”
“Excellent, and how’s Xander and the
apartment?”
Spike rolled his eyes, “He’s spreading his wings
all right. . . different girl every night, raging parties on the
weekends. . .”
She held her breath again. “Oh?”
“Yeah, he’s been enjoying his freedom.” Spike
stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s all right, I suppose. I just
end up being the one to take care of the drunks. Which is
different since I was the one that needed taking care of for a
bit there. Drunk people are annoying.”
Buffy giggled. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Got any hot chocolate? With mini
marshmallows?”
Buffy grinned, “Of course.”
“So what else is new?” Buffy asked as they
settled down at her kitchen table over the hot cocoa.
“Well, turns out that Wesley is a professor at
URI and teaches creative writing and poetry. He’s taken a
shine to my work and has asked me if I’d visit a few of his
classes and kind of lend my experience to his students.”
“Spike, that’s awesome. You must be so
excited,” Buffy gushed.
“I am. Little nervous, but excited. I’m thinking I
might take what I’ve written and try to find a publisher for
them.”
“That sounds like a great idea. I’d love to read
your stuff.”
Spike chuckled, “Most of it was inspired by you,
you know.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t read it then?”
“I’ll pick and choose,” Spike grinned. “What have
you been up to?”
“Well. . . “ Where to begin?
“Come on Buffy, tell me,” Spike urged.
“I’ve been seeing a therapist.”
Spike’s jaw dropped. “What?”
She nodded, “It’s not a bad thing. It’s a good
thing. I felt a little out of control and like I was every which
way and dealing with a lot of change and . . . I just needed
someone to talk to that didn’t know. . . stuff.”
“Stuff like me?” Spike asked quietly.
She reached across the table and placed a
hand on his arm. “No, Spike, you weren’t the reason. I was
going down a path and didn’t know which end was up and
everyone was trying to tell me which way to go and it got
confusing and I lost sight of myself. All those things I told you
to go and do were the very things I was neglecting to do. It’s
been good for me. I’ve decided to do criminal psychology
now.”
His jaw dropped again. “Wow. Therapy
impressed you that much?”
She chuckled lightly, “Yep. It was something I
was always interested in but was convinced by my mother
wouldn’t take me anywhere. Part of therapy has been
learning to listen to myself and follow my own path and being
okay with it.”
“Like you wanted me to do,” Spike said softly,
looking down.
“I’m sorry,” she told him, taking her hand off his
arm.
His head snapped up.
“I was telling you to follow your own path and I
never gave you much choice in the matter when I thrust you
out. I was doing to you the very thing that’d been done to me
my whole life. It wasn’t fair. I had the best of intentions, I
really did. I didn’t want to be like my mother and coddle you—“
“I coddled you too, I know that. I never made
you own up to your mistakes.”
“And I kept you from making any because I
never wanted you to get hurt. I mothered you and for that I’m
sorry.”
Spike reached across the table and took her
hand in his, squeezing gently. “Buffy, do you think that we
could have more talks like this? Do you think we could see
each other more than we have lately? I just feel that. . . I feel
that I still need you and I don’t care if I’m not done baking yet
or if you’re still baking too. . . I just know that part of my
baking process includes needing to see you. Do you think
that’s something we could do?”
Buffy gave him a watery smile. “You know
what I’m really sorry about?”
“What?”
“For ever coming up with that damn baking
analogy.”
Spike burst out laughing and Buffy followed
suit.
“So is that a yes? Can I see you again?” he
pressed.
Buffy nodded, “How about at the next poetry
reading?”
Spike grinned, “Sounds perfect, luv.”
Chapter 31
Buffy was running horrendously late and it seemed to her
that no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t get out of
her own way. She definitely felt that Murphy’s Law was in
full effect for her today. On a normal day, she would just
toss up her hands and say ‘fuck it! I’m going home.’ But,
tonight was Spike’s poetry reading – it’d been a week since
their talk—and she didn’t want him to think she was blowing
him off or had forgotten.
And it wasn’t as if it just seemed to happen as the hours
drew closer, as one would suspect with her being so nervous about going. No, it had been an all day event, starting with getting mascara on her shirt for work and having nothing else clean to wear. Then not being able to find her shoes and her keys, to getting stuck in traffic, being late for work, dropping things and losing things continuously while at work. Her therapist had called to ask her if she’d mind coming in an hour later due to an emergency to which
Buffy had agreed, figuring she would still have forty five
minutes in which to change before meeting up with Spike.
Yeah, right.
The emergency went a half hour into Buffy’s one hour
session and she had teetered on canceling her appointment.
However, she’d have to fork over the money anyway and
she’d come to actually look forward to her sessions. Why
stop progress? So she stayed and figured with the slim half
hour she had after, she’d just make it straight to the café to
catch Spike. Except a major accident had halted her arrival
and there were no other routes to take—that she knew of
anyway. It dawned on her that she could call Spike and tell
him what happened, but when she fished around in her
purse, then glove box and under her seat, she had to face up
to the fact that she’d left her cell at home. Sitting in her car,
waiting for the go ahead, Buffy burst into tears.
When she’d finally arrived at the café, she was a mess. Her
hair stringy, her clothes wrinkly and her makeup now cried
off. She managed to tie her hair back, discard her suit jacket
and wore her blue skirt and cream colored blouse into the
café. Still decidedly too dressed up, yes, but she didn’t have
time to stress so much over technicalities at that point.
She burst through the door and heads swiveled to her, but
she ignored them. She only had eyes for Spike who was
standing at the mic, looking out of this world gorgeous. His
hair was springing curls and he wore the tightest black t shirt
and tightest pair of black jeans known to man. He was hot.
With two t’s. She gulped, thinking that every girl in the room
must want him. How could they not? She wasn’t sure how to
let him know she was there, so she just stood rooted where
she was and figured she’d come over after. He was turning
pages what appeared to be his notebook.
“This one. . . I wrote on the night of a full moon. I was feeling
particularly. . . angry and cyncial,” he chuckled, but it wasn’t
a light chuckle; it was dark. She shivered at the sound. “And
since I’m kind of pissed right now,” he continued, “It fits.” He
took a deep breath and began:
”It’s a Full Moon.
I can feel it in my Mood.
Nothing satisfies and Everything Provokes.
The Lion is at hand and it’s making the beast within me restless.
I want to rule the forest
And I will.
The key is not in hating them,
But being okay with them hating you back.
When you say you don’t care what they think,
You have to really mean it
Or everyone thinks you’re just Hiding Something.
Always let them see you sweat
So they know how much work you did
And how much they didn’t.
You never know what you can do until
You’re forced to find out.
It’s amazing how far your survival skills
Will take you.
It’s incredible the amount of knowledge you can gain
By doing absolutely nothing for yourself.
It’s fantastic how amazing you can Be doing
Everything for yourself.
Sure, everyone deserves love—
but how come the Bad love so Good and the Good love so Bad?
Experience doesn’t mean you know Everything
It just means you Messed Up Everything.
True closure comes not with sticking it to the ignorant fool
But in being able to Forgive
And Never Forget.
Been There
Done That
Made the T-shirt.
Time makes you apathetic to all wounds.
When all else fails
Remember: Indifference is Power.
It makes her scramble around
Like a headless chicken wondering
How she can make you care again.All you have to do to help her Die
Is sit back and laugh. “
Buffy gulped. Again. She imagined the ‘her’ was, well, her and that it was probably a bad sign. She felt her tears start to surge forth again and she forced them down and focused on breathing instead. So many things were going through her mind at his words –and how amazing was he by the way?—and she felt the room grow smaller at the idea that he thought she wouldn’t show, that he thought –and he had every right to think—
“Buffy?”
Her watery eyes focused on a pair of brown ones. She
blinked and took in the tiny woman with the long brown hair
and kind eyes before her. “Yes?”
“Oh, I wasn’t sure if you were. . . her. Spike had described
you to us and I feel as if I know you – not that he’s said bad—
when did you get here?”
Breathe, Buffy, breathe. “Just now,” she said in small
voice. “I tried to get here sooner, but I just couldn’t seem to do
it.”
Fred nodded sympathetically. “Were you nervous to come?”
Buffy shook her head.
“Nervous about what? To hear me read some sodding
poetry?” Spike. He stood before her, eyes flashing with
anger, his jaw clenching.
That did it. Buffy burst into tears. She shook her head, “No, I
wasn’t nervous about coming. Well, I mean yeah, I was, but
that’s not why I was so late. I was late because I had the day
from hell and nothing was going right and I tried so hard to
get here, but I got out of my session late with just enough
time to make it straight here and then there was an accident
and I don’t have my phone on me and I just made it in time to
hear your last poem and I know I’m the her that you want to
die and I’m so sorry that I was late and I really did try
everything I could to—“
She was cut off her extreme ramble with no breath by Spike
taking her in his arms and stroking her tangled ponytail.
“Ssshhhh kitten. It’s okay now,” he said calmly.
“Yrragrtwrtr,” she mumbled against his chest.
“What was that?” he asked, his tone light, almost laughing.
She looked up at him, “You’re a great writer.”
He smiled and pushed some hair away from her face, “Thank
you.”
She nodded and peered over at the girl watching the
exchange with a smile on her face.
“Hi,” she said, detangling herself from Spike’s arms, trying not
to let his friends think she was a complete loon. “You must
be--?”
“Fred,” the woman said kindly. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.”
“Really?” Buffy asked dumbfounded.
Fred and Spike chuckled at that and Buffy gave an awkward
smile.
“What’s all the commotion over here?” a man of medium build
with a british asked queried and wrapped an arm around
Fred’s waist. He looked directly at Buffy and smiled. “You
must be Buffy. I’m Wesley,” he stuck out his hand and Buffy
shook it before rolling her eyes up to Spike. “Just what have
you been telling them?” she asked.
Spike grinned and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “It’s all
right kitten. Why don’t we get out of here huh? I think you
could use a drink—and not of the coffee nature. What do you
think?”
Buffy nodded dumbly and allowed him to lead her to his car,
Fred and Wesley not far behind.
“Spike, wait, what about my –“
”Buffy, it’s okay. I’ll drive you back later to get your car,
okay?”
She nodded and climbed in, feeling suddenly relaxed. She
sighed heavily, feeling as if she were expelling the stress of
the day with that sigh.
Wesley and Fred pulled up behind them and Spike took off.
“Have you eaten, pet?”
“No. I didn’t have time.”
“We’ll get you something, yeah?”
“Spike, I’m sorry I wasn’t there from the start.”
Reaching over, Spike patted her knee. “It’s okay, baby. Why
don’t you tell me about your day?”
“It sucked total ass,” she told him bluntly.
Spike laughed out loud, “Tell me all about it, kitten.”
She really liked Fred and Wesley. A lot. They
were kind and sweet and funny. More importantly, they
seemed to love Spike. She decided not to dwell on what he
told them about her. That would just play games with her head. Instead, she listened them talk and interjected when she felt she had something to share. Spike was sure to include her and took her hand in his when she was done dinner, squeezing it every now and then.
She felt much better after a drink and some
food. The day just washed away and she sat back, laughing
softly at the jokes being passed around the table. She looked
over at Spike and found him watching her. She smiled at him
and he grinned.
“Want to get out of here? Talk?” he asked softly
as Fred and Wesley discussed their half of the bill.
“Sure,” she nodded. “I need my car.”
“I know. Want to go back to your place for a bit?”
“How about the beach? I could use the sound of
the water to fully wash this day away.”
He grinned. “Sounds good, pet. Let’s go.”
Standing up, they said their good bye’s and nice-to-meet-
you’s and they were gone.
Once outside, Spike stopped, still holding onto
Buffy’s hand.
“What?” she asked; looking up at him curiously.
Leaning in, Spike brushed his lips across hers
ever so gently. She hadn’t expected that and she jumped a
bit.
He grinned and caressed the side of her
face. “I’m glad you came,” he whispered and they took off for
his car once again, Buffy following and touching her lips with
the pads of her fingers, feeling the remnant of his kiss.
Chapter 32
As soon as Buffy heard the waves, she was
off like a shot running toward it. The water always had that
affect on her. She wasn’t happy unless she was IN it. Forget
lounging around on sand soaking up the rays. No, she
wanted to be in the water or a trip to the beach was just
useless. Thankfully, Spike shared in the same passion and he
laughed as she kicked off her shoes, hiked up her skirt and
ran. She heard him following behind her and no sooner had
her feet touched the water then Spike has his arms around
her, lifting her off the sand and nuzzling her neck.
She squealed and laughed as he spun her
around to face him, setting her down once more as the
waves crashed around their feet.
“Feel better?” he asked huskily as he pushed
tucked some hair behind her ear.
She nodded enthusiastically. “You know the
ocean always makes me feel better.”
He smiled, “I know. I remember.”
“So tell me,” she said, stepping back and
appraising him, “Is the black on black a look you’re going for?
Tortured artist? Disgruntled poet?”
He grinned and shrugged. “It’s a look. Never put
that much thought in it. Plus, easier to do a load of laundry.”
“Spike,” she took a deep breath, unsure how to
begin.
“Yeah?” he prompted.
She bit her bottom lip. “The poem you read. . . “
“I was angry when I wrote it kitten,” he
explained.
“Really? Because I got warm fuzzy feelings
from that one,” she said sarcastically.
He chuckled. “Come on,” he said, grabbing her
hand. “Let’s sit and have a chat, yeah?”
She nodded and allowed him to lead her back to
the sand. He sat down and pulled her down so that she sat
in front of him between his legs. He wrapped his arms
around her. “Cold?”
“A little,” she shivered. Although, she didn’t think
it had anything to do with the slight chill in the air. No, it had to
do with a certain blond God sitting behind her.
“I wanted to not care,” he told her softly. “I
thought if I didn’t care and you still did then I could hurt you.
Make you feel what I felt.”
She turned slightly, meeting his eyes
imploringly. “Did you think I didn’t care about you?”
“Sometimes. I know you do though Buffy—“
“I always did Spike. I never stopped caring
about you.” She turned back around, watching the waves
crash against the shore.
“I know. . . “ he whispered, “I get it, I get it all,”
and his lips found her neck.
She shivered again. “Do you really?”
“I do,” he said and trailed kisses up her neck.
“You don’t hate me? You’re not angry with me
anymore?”
“Does this feel like I’m angry?” he murmured
nibbling on her ear.
She swiftly spun around so that she was
facing him, perched before him on her knees. He stared at
her dumbfounded.
“How can you not be angry with me?” she
demanded. “You told me you hated me.”
“I never hated you Buffy. I was angry with you,
yes, but I never hated you. I couldn’t. It’s not something I’m
capable of. I’m probably love’s bitch, but then I always
guessed I was.”
“Love’s bitch huh? But not my bitch?”
“Do you want me to be?”
“No,” she shook her head.
He grinned, “Do you want to be MY bitch?”
She shook her head, “No. I want you to be Spike
and me to be Buffy.”
He reached for her, but she eluded his grasp
and stood before him.
“What is it Buffy?” he asked, standing up and
facing her.
“What I did to you—to us—I spent a lot of time
justifying it to me, to you, and to everyone else on God green
earth, and I felt –and still sometimes feel—that what I did was
right. For both of us.”
“And it took me a long time to see that what you
did was probably the best thing—“
“Do you really mean that?”
“I’ve never lied to you Buffy and I’m not about to
start now.”
She shook her head, “I know I just . . . I’m still
angry with myself for hurting you. Sometimes when I close
my eyes all I see is you shouting at me, telling me you hate me
and crying. It makes me lose sight of how I wanted to help
you and not hinder you. And I see you now, how you’ve
grown in such a short time. How you’re still growing. I
learned a valuable lesson,” she told him, wiping the tears that
were falling away.
“What’s that?” Spike asked softly, not moving.
“That you’re never done changing –or, going
along with my horrendous metaphor – baking. The edges
might not be done. The middle could be a little soft still, but it’s
the fact of knowing that you’ve set down your own path and
knowing that you have control over those things. And then
sometimes, if you’re lucky enough, you find someone to join
you on your journey, and hopefully they’ll support you and
encourage you, not drag you down and stop you for their
own selfish reasons.”
“And you were afraid you’d be selfish?”
She nodded.
“I get that.”
“You do?”
“Why do you still sound so surprised?”
“I’m still growing and learning. I’m still trying to
own up to my own mistakes and learn that it’s okay to
stumble and fall and that the reason why we fall is learn how
to get back up. I’m still trying to pick myself up from having
hurt the one person in this world that means more to me than
anything.” The tears were streaming down her face now.
Spike grabbed her in his arms and held on
tight. “I think in this instance it’s okay for me to help you up,
don’t you? Because you are my someone on my journey and
I’m your someone aren’t I Buffy?”
She nodded against his chest, clutching his shirt
in her tiny fists as she cried. They stayed like that for a long
time, the sound of the ocean in the distance, the still night air
surrounding them. Only when the last of her salt had been
shed did Buffy finally feel at peace.
Spike put his hand under her chin and made her look at
him. “Where do we go from here, Buffy?”
Chapter 33
Buffy met Spike’s eyes unwaveringly. “Where
do you want to go from here?” she asked him.
He leaned in and kissed her deeply. “I want us
to be together, Buffy,” he told her when they parted. “I don’t
want to be apart any longer.”
“Spike, have you--?” she averted her
eyes, “that is, have you uh been with—not that I have any
right to be jealous or –“
He kissed her again, languidly. When they broke
apart, both were breathless. “No,” he told her.
“How--?” she swallowed.
He chuckled. “You’re asking me how I couldn’t
have?”
She nodded.
“Told you I was love’s bitch. Despite what I
might not have known about myself and what I’m capable of –
there’s one thing that’s always been constant and always
will be: You. I love you Buffy, that’s never changed. Do you
love me too?”
She nodded, “I do. I always have I just didn’t
know or accept it and I never thought . . . Spike, are you sure
you want to?”
He smiled gently and cupped her face in his
hands. “I love you, Buffy. I want to be with you.”
“But I hurt you.”
“Haven’t we been over this?”
She nodded, averting her eyes. “We have.”
“Do you plan on leaving me again?”
“No,” she shook her head, dislodging his hands
from her face. “No, I don’t have it in me to leave you. And I
never really left you Spike. I was still there, I was . . . waiting.
And how can you be sure you want to be with me if you’re
afraid I’ll leave you again?”
“I just don’t have it in me to be with anyone else
when my heart is yours. I can’t explain it Buffy. I just…” he
shook his head, “I just know I love you and that . . . this is it
Buffy. This is it for me. Don’t ask me how I know that and
please, if you don’t think this is it for you then you leave me
now because I couldn’t go through losing you again. It’d kill
me.”
This time it was she that cupped his face in her
hands. “You’re it for me Spike. You always were, I—I never –
I knew someday we’d be together again.”
“But we needed some time apart to confirm it,
yeah?”
She nodded. “I always knew you were it for me
Spike. I just wanted to make sure you knew I was it for you
too. I’m sorry that I put you through all that—“
He shook his head and kissed her, silencing
her. “It was good for us. Made us stronger, don’t you think?
As much as it killed me and as much as I don’t ever want to
go through that again, it felt like it had to be done somehow.
Now that I know how you feel Buffy. . . That I’m the one. . .
You’re never getting rid of me, do you understand me? You
won’t ever be able to leave me and I won’t leave you.”
“I understand if you can’t trust this right away
Spike. I can’t blame you if you don’t,” she told him
honestly. “Just . . . I always did love you. Everything I did – it
was for you, it was because I loved you.”
“Just say it, kitten. Tell me you love me, please.”
“I love you Spike.”
With those words spoken, he pulled her to him
and kissed her soundly. “You’re with me then?” He asked,
when they came up for air.
She nodded, “I’m with you.”
Kissing her hungrily, Spike maneuvered them to
the sand on their knees. He weaved his hand under her
blouse and cupped her breast in his hand. She moaned into
his mouth and pressed into his touch, tangling her fingers in
his hair.
“Buffy, baby,” he breathed, “I want to make love
to you.”
She nodded, nearly panting. “Not here, let’s go
to –“
Spike’s cell ringing cut her off. “Ignore it,” he
growled and attacked her lips.
“You better answer it,” Buffy breathed, parting
from him slightly, “You said Xander was at a party tonight,
remember?”
Spike growled again and grabbed his phone out
of his pocket with one hand while keeping Buffy in place with
his other arm wrapped around her. He rolled his yes. Must be
Xander, Buffy thought.
“Yeah? Yes, I am with Buffy. . . Yes, this is a
bad time.”
Buffy giggled.
“All right Harris, I’m coming to get you. . . I’m not
going to have this discussion with you right now but we will
talk tomorrow about this. Good bye.”
“He needs to be picked up?” Buffy guessed.
“Yes, of all the sodding times—“ he broke off to
kiss her again. “I can come back? I can drop you off at your
car and get Xander, drop him off and go to your place, yeah?”
“Honey, I want to make love to you, I do, but—“
He closed his eyes. “No buts please. Buffy, I’ve
waited so long to have you in my arms again.”
She smiled, “I know, but I want our first time
together to be something special. I don’t want it to be rushed.
I want to take my time and . . . not have to go to work in the
morning.”
“You know you’re killing me, right?”
She giggled, “I know. It’s killing me too. Just think
how nice it’d be to have the whole night and then the whole
day . . . “
“Friday night seems too far away.”
“That’s because it is. It’s three days. Why don’t
we go out tomorrow night?”
Spike looked at her, smiling. “Like a date?”
She nodded. “I’d very much like to date you,
Spike.”
He swooped in and kissed her
soundly. “Tomorrow night then. We’ll go out for dinner and
some dancing. Sound good?”
“Perfect. Wonderful. I’ll be with you, that’s all I
need.”
“Tell me again, Buffy. Say it.”
She met his eyes, “I love you Spike.”
Chapter 34
She couldn’t sleep. In fact she was wired. Why
the hell did she tell Spike they’d wait? She wanted him NOW.
She took a shower, got in comfy pajamas and ended up
staring blankly at the TV while her leg bounced up and down.
This was—someone knocked on her door. She rolled her
eyes. She didn’t want to talk to Willow at this moment in time.
On the other hand, it’d give her something to do while she
wasn’t doing someone.
“Hey Will—“ she stopped.
“I told you I go by Spike now,” he told her
grinning.
She launched herself into his arms and he
caught her, easily hoisting her up so that her legs wrapped
around his waist. He chuckled as she dotted his face with
kisses.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” she exclaimed.
“I see that. I know I said I’d wait and I thought I
could and we don’t have to do anything Buffy, but I just need
to –“
She covered his lips with hers and kissed him
hungrily. When they both needed air, she parted. “What?”
“Hold you. I was going to tell you that I needed
to hold you tonight—but fucking hell Buffy . . . you got my
motor revvin’ here,” he told her breathlessly and smooshed
her against the wall as he devoured her mouth with his.
She couldn’t get close enough. Bodies touching,
grinding against each other and it still wasn’t enough. She
pushed wormed her hands between them and pushed at his
jacket, wanting it off, off off. She wanted it all OFF.
“Kitten,” he slid her to the floor and caught her
hands. “You don’t have to.”
She blinked. “You do remember that you’re a
guy right?”
“Oi, pet. Little below the belt there.”
“That’s just it Spike. I want to BE below the belt. I
want below the belt IN me. Any of this sound good to you?”
He growled and snatched her against him,
hoisting her up yet again. “Perfect.”
“Wait!”
He paused. “What?”
“It’s your first time. Do you want to wait? I’m a
little nutty right now with wanting you and I know you
probably want your first time to be special—“
He pressed an ardent kiss to her mouth; tugging
her hair out of the pony she had it in. “Buffy, it will be special
because it’s with you.”
She leaned in and this time kissed him slowly,
taking her time reacquainting herself with his taste. This time,
she pushed his jacket off slowly and started dipped her
hands down, tugging on his shirt. She lifted it slowly,
caressing each patch of skin exposed and when she finally
tugged it over his head and discarded it, she placed kisses
along his collar bone and flicked each nipple with his tongue.
He inhaled sharply.
Meeting his eyes, she walked him to her bed
and pushed him down. He sat with a plop and watched as
she pulled her tank over her head.
“Christ Buffy, you’re so bleedin’ gorgeous,” he
whispered reverently, pulling her close to him. He suckled on
one hardened nipple and cupped the other in his hand,
brushing over it with the pad of his thumb. She moaned and
dug her fingers in his hair, holding him to her.
“You taste so good, kitten,” he whispered. “I
want you so much, baby.”
“I want you too,” she replied softly. “Kick off
your shoes and socks.”
He obliged and when they were discarded, she
nudged him to lie down. He did so, but kept his head up,
watching her. Nearly yanking his jeans off, she grinned
when she saw he’d gone commando. His erection bounced
free of the confines of his jeans, weeping pre cum. She
licked it, eliciting a moan. Grinning, she took him in her mouth,
bobbing her head up and down, swirling her tongue around
the head and then engulfed him once again.
“Buffy. . . Fuck that feels so good. Buffy, I want
you up here, Buffy, please…”
She continued on and when she hummed
around him, he exploded.
“Buffy!”
She swallowed it all down, taking him in her
body, loving it because it was him and he was all she needed
and wanted. She was starting to lick him clean when he
hauled her up to him. He kissed her ravenously.
“Can you taste yourself on me?” she asked
huskily.
“You’re going to bleedin’ kill me,” he
gasped. “Get up here.”
“What?”
“Give me that delectable pussy, now.”
“Spike, do you mean—“
He nodded, his eyes dark and glittering. “Right.
Over. My. Mouth.”
How was it possible that she was the
experienced one here and he made HER blush?
“Want to taste you again…love your taste. . .like
sugar and honey. So sweet, so mine… “he murmured,
nuzzling her neck.
She shivered and gave herself a mental shake.
What the hell, she thought. Moving, she poised herself over
his mouth and held onto the bed post. The second his breath
came across her pussy, her eyes rolled. And when his
tongue licked her, she trembled. She was beginning to
wonder if he’d been lying to her when he’d said he hadn’t
been with another woman. The things he could do with his
tongue. . . it was positively sinful. He was beating out some
kind of morse code on her clit and any second now she was
going to—
“Spike!”
She came hard in his mouth and he ate her as if
it were his last meal. “Mmmmm… my Buffy,” he moaned, and
off like a rocket she went again. When her legs turned to Jell-
O, she slid to the side and off him. He was right there to
gather her to him. Rolling so that he was on top, he fitted
himself between her legs, his already hardened erection
poking at her folds.
“Can you taste yourself?” he asked and kissed
her gently.
“Spike, that was –oh my god, where did you
learn that?”
He smirked. “I spent a LOT of time in that
bookstore.”
She giggled and reached between them,
grabbing his erection and stroking it.
He buried his head in her neck. “God, you’re
going to kill me. Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited
for this?”
“Tell me,” she urged.
“Seems like its been ever since you took me out
of that locker. No, before that. Before, just seein’ you all
around school . . . You’re a Goddess, you know that?”
“I love you,” she whispered, kissing him
fervently. “I love you so much.”
“There just aren’t words for how much I love
you, Buffy.”
She guided him inside her slowly, letting him get
used to being inside a woman and letting her get used to his
size. After a few strokes, he was completely inside and she
was already ready to go off like a rocket again. When he
was embedded in her, so deep inside, he paused, just
nuzzling her neck.
“You feel so good, I’m afraid to move,” he told
her honestly. “I’ve never. . . God, Buffy . . .”
“Slow baby, just go slow.”
He started to pull out and then in, starting a slow
rhythm that almost did her in. She wrapped her legs around
him and tilted her hips just a bit—oh yeah, right there, she
thought. And then he angled his hips and her eyes widened.
Leave it to Spike to find her G-spot on the first try. Her eyes
rolled. “I need …” she breathed.
“What? Tell me, kitten. What do you need?”
“Faster. Harder,” she grunted.
He obliged. They moved like a well oiled
machine, grinding, thrusting, moving and tap, tap, tapping
against her special spot. It hit her like a freight train and she
bit down on his shoulder screaming into it as she came. Her
walls tightening and massing his cock milked him as he
roared his release, spilling himself inside her.
He collapsed on top of her, and she wound
herself around him, not wanting to let him go.
He lifted his head and kissed her slowly, deeply.
She looked up at him lovingly, swiping the
perspiration from his forehead off. “Did I happen to mention
how glad I am you came over tonight?”
Chapter 35
Spike woke slowly, having an erotic dream of
Buffy. Buffy between his legs, sucking on him, making him
feel so good . . .
“Mmmm…. Awake yet?”
His eyes flew open and he groaned in pleasure
when he saw that his dream was a reality. Watching his
hard member disappear inside her luscious pink mouth was
as erotic as it came.
She grinned when she released him with a
plop. “I got bored waiting for you to wake up,” she told him
and crawled up his body. “I hope you don’t mind.” She
straddled him, impaling herself on him.
His eyes rolled, “Bleeding hell,” he
moaned. “That feels good.”
She smiled and leaned forward. “Morning
gorgeous.”
He grinned and thrust up into her
wetness. “Morning, princess. Give us a kiss now eh?”
She obliged.
When they were spent, for the time being
anyway, Buffy rolled to her side and Spike cuddled her close
to him. “I don’t want to go to work today,” he whispered.
“Then don’t. I, for one, plan to stay here. You
wore me out.”
He grinned. “In a good way right?”
She smiled, “Definitely. But if you stay. . . you
can remind me of how good it is a few more times.”
“Good? I don’t think I like that adjective anymore.
I want. . . amazing. Brilliant.”
“Then you better call. I already did for myself.”
“Pretty sure of your powers of persuasion
huh?”
“I can be.”
“Hand me the phone.”
Three hours later, they’d managed to roll
themselves out of bed and go out for breakfast.
“Do you want me to kick Xander out?” Spike
asked her as they munched on fresh fruit together.
She nearly choked on the strawberry he
insisted on feeding her. “What?”
“Kick him out so you can come back.”
“Do you want to kick him out?”
“For you to come back? Of course.”
“That wouldn’t be very fair to Xander. He’s been
there a month!”
“You were there a month too,” he pointed out.
“That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“I’m not sure.”
He took a deep breath. “Buffy, do you want to
move back?”
“How about we try something different this
time? I’m going to ask you what you think instead.”
He studied her, poked at some fruit and
pondered the question. He looked up at her. “I think we
should keep it the way it is for now,” he said finally.
She nodded. “You’re right. Being on my own . . .
it’s liberating. I like it.”
“Well, you’re not on your own, on your own.
You have me.”
She smiled, “I know I have you. But you know
what I mean. You feel it too, don’t you?”
He nodded. “I do. But I don’t want it forever
Buffy. I want you with me again.”
“I know, but for now this is nice isn’t it? We can
date. Do couple things instead of roommate things. We can
have those weeks where we get busy and might not see
each other for a couple days and then when we finally do it’s
that much more intense. Then I can make you dinner some
days, you can make me dinner on other days. Sleepovers at
my place,” she had a dreamy expression on her face.
“Wow that sounds really nice. Why’d we move
in together in the first place?” he teased and she playfully hit
him.
“Besides, it’s still fresh and new,” she continued on. “We’re both still fresh and new. Being on our own like this
and dating, it’s like we’re experiencing a brand new world
together even though we’re not living together. Know what I
mean?”
Spike nodded, “It’s definitely a good thing. It’ll
make when we do move together, that much more perfect.”
She nodded. “So, does your mom completely
hate me?”
“No, pet. She doesn’t hate you. How could she?
You’re like a daughter to her.”
“I know, but I’m afraid to see her.”
“Don’t be. It’ll be okay, I promise. What about
your mom, how is that going?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “I haven’t seen her much.
When trying to build a life, the last thing you need is someone
breathing down your neck telling you all the things you’re
doing wrong with it.”
“Does it sound odd for me to thank you?”
“For?”
“For not breathing down my neck.”
Buffy smiled. “Not at all. Thank you for being
patient with me.”
“I wasn’t being patient Buffy, I was just . . . I
couldn’t be with anyone else. I lived my life. I did what I had to
do and good things did come out of it that might not have
happened otherwise. But I never felt as alive as I do when
you’re with me. I love you.”
“I love you too. So, let’s go start on those fun
dating things. How about a walk in the park holding hands?
Tell me how great I was as a roomie compared to
Xander. . . “
“Xander doesn’t put out.”
“Pig.”
“Oink, oink baby.”
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