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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you for reading this. Thank you for the wonderful reviews.
TO KNOW THE HUMAN HEART


Chapter 11: ‘The Morning After The Night Before’


Summary: Spike and Buffy continue their ‘night’ together. Will they do more then ‘snog’ and such? Hmmmm…
More surprise visitors at Buffy’s the next morning. Who could they be?


Buffy realized something as she and Spike worked their way (make that kissed their way) from her patio to her living room:

You could give into temptation and do something you weren’t ‘ready’ for; or, you could use willpower and reason. Therefore, you didn’t do something you weren’t ready for; you didn’t do something you ‘wanted’ desperately to do.

What puzzlement!

Somehow, Buffy and Spike had made (?) their way to the living room couch. Spike wasn’t exactly rough, per say, but he wasn’t what you’d call exactly gentle, either; when he practically shoved Buffy on the couch and pounced on her.

After successfully pinning Buffy to said couch, Spike continued his onslaught of kisses, smooches and the ever classic ‘snogs’ that he’ had promised her. Not that this wasn’t quite pleasant to Buffy, on the contrary; she found all of this passion with him very pleasant indeed.

It was just that…..

“Spike, I think we need to kind of tone this down a little. Maybe take it down a notch or two?” Buffy squeaked in a kiss muffled voice.

“Yeah,” Spike murmured in reply, doing anything but toning down his affectionate kisses. The fact that he ground his very obvious erection into her dress covered mound didn’t help the situation at all. At least not to Buffy’s way of clear thinking; which was another thing that she was definitely not doing much of right now.

“Maybe,” Buffy was finally able to stammer out between kisses. “You had better go now?” She hated the reluctant whine in her voice, but there it was.

“I know,” Spike whispered huskily, “maybe I should go.” He pulled back from her and gazed into her emerald green eyes with something akin to remorse?

“I don’t want to go, Buffy,” he mumbled half-heartedly, “I want to stay with you. All night and make love to you until we both pass out, but…I know you’re not ready for ‘that’ yet.” He sighed heavily and flopped back against the couch, careful to pull Buffy into his arms as he did.

“What say I stay?” Spike suddenly asked in a quiet, reverent tone. “I could stay here, with you. All night. Sleep on the couch?” He offered with wide-eyed honesty.

“I’d prefer sleeping in your bed, with you sweet,” he continued with a self-derisive laugh. “But I’ll take contentment in just being with you, here in your home; waking up to the knowledge that you’re just mere feet away in the next room. Hey, I’ll even make you breakfast and we can have a cuppa on your little patio. What do you say, Princess? Let me stay and spend time with you; just for the night; all innocent and….”

Buffy caught the true affectionate honesty in Spike’s deep, melodic voice. She felt her heart skip a beat and mentally envisioned tomorrow morning. She and Spike, sipping coffee on her patio, talking quietly and listening to the world wake up.

“I say yes,” Buffy giggled merrily, surprising herself most of all.

Spike watched the adorable little pink blush that began in her neck and worked its way up to her cheeks.

“As long as you sleep on the couch,” she echoed his words, her right brow raised in question and a pout on her pink lips.

“I will stay on the couch. Scout’s honor,” Spike mumbled as he crossed his heart with his left hand, his patent smirk in place.

“Somehow, I can’t see you as a Scout!” Buffy burst out into laughter at the thought. That this handsome, sexy Brit was ever a Boy Scout or whatever the English called them.

“You’d be surprised,” Spike snorted in reply, his expression was one of mock hurt.

“Probably,” Buffy giggled good-naturedly. “Well,” she continued evenly, “if you’re staying on the couch? I’ll need to get you sheets and a blankie,” she stood to do just that.

“Blankie?” Spike asked her suspiciously; that cute scarred left brow raised in question.

‘I have ‘got’ to find out how Spike received that little momento,’ Buffy told herself once again. Instead of asking him, she grinned at him widely.

“No, not something along the lines of Sesame Street or Disney sleepwear,” Buffy giggled again. “I just have hold-over baby talk from the hospital. It’s actually a lovely velour number,” she shrugged and strode into the hallway.

When she came back, Spike had already stripped most of his clothing off, except for his boxers. Buffy tried ‘not’ to stare at his obvious hard on; instead she quickly tossed him the sheets and blanket.

“I, uhm,” she stuttered nervously, trying to avert her stare from Spike’s very impressive form.

“Oh come on now, sweetling,” Spike laughed heartily, “you’ve seen a man in his knickers before. If you like,” he continued mischievously, “I’ll sleep in my trousers and…..”

“No, no,” Buffy assured him quickly, another blush graced her neck and face. “That’s fine. I’ll just go get ready for bed and you can hit the bathroom after, kay?”

“Okay,” Spike replied warmly. “But after, can you come out and join me on the couch? Just to watch some late night telly together? I promise to ‘cover’ my manly’s with the blankie,” he finished with a quick, affectionate smile.

“Sure,” Buffy giggled in response, “I can do that. I’d like that,” she added over her shoulder as she sashayed into the bathroom.

Once Buffy had finished in the bathroom, she dressed in a pretty satin pjs and a matching robe.

‘Nothing seductive about this,’ she assured herself with a quick look in her bedroom’s full-length mirror.

Apparently, Buffy was still too naïve to realize that ‘more’ didn’t necessarily have to mean ‘less’ attention from a man in love. While the satin robe covered the somewhat modest pjs, it still clung to Buffy’s feminine curves. The color of the ensemble; a pale cotton candy pink, might prove to be quite mouth watering to Spike.

Spike washed up, quickly, in the small, purely feminine loo of Buffy’s condo. While he had more of a spartan, masculine taste in home furnishings; Spike could appreciate the decorations in Buffy’s place. The entire condo (well the parts he’d seen so far that is) just reflected the young, amazing woman that Buffy Summers truly was.

After brushing his teeth, as best he could without a brush, Spike flipped off the light and headed to the couch. He was delighted to see that Buffy had beat him to it; having even set out two more glasses of wine for them on the table.

When Spike sat down next to Buffy, he discreetly covered his lower half, just to make her more comfortable. It also helped to cover his rapidly re-hardening cock that had jumped to attention when he saw Buffy’s evening wear.

Spike had to cover the smirk on his face, also. He supposed that Buffy, when she had chosen this particular nightie combo, had thought it was the epitome of modesty. The problem was; something this satiny, chic and slinky just tended to add even more allure to her.

It just reaffirmed the first impressions that Spike had gotten from Buffy. She was completely guiles, although not completely innocent or naïve. Buffy still had no idea the kind of power she held over men, without even trying at all.

“You look beautiful, Princess.” Spike whispered into Buffy’s warm little ear, delighted when she had automatically snuggled into him.

“Thanks,” she replied matter-of-factly and continued to flip through the telly stations with the remote.

“Ooooh, let’s watch the rest of Saturday Night Live!” Buffy squealed excitedly.

“Fine by me,” Spike replied with a huge grin as he relaxed into the back of the couch. He kept his left arm tightly wrapped about Buffy’s silky little body and smiled in contentment.

The show, that night, was funny, if not particularly original, or so Spike felt. Buffy was enjoying it so much, that he could have cared less who the host or musical guests were.

“I just love this show!” Buffy giggled and pointed at the telly screen. “Don’t you just love this show?” She turned and gave Spike a questioning look.

“It’s okay,” Spike shrugged. “Can’t hold a candle to Monty Python, in the glory days,” he added matter-of-factly.

“You mean the Holy Grail guys?” Buffy asked in confusion. “Sorry, I just don’t get them,” she grumbled and went back to watching the show; a slight pout on her pretty mouth.

Spike chuckled out loud and pulled her even tighter to him; he planted a quick kiss on her right cheek.

“Now don’t get all up into it, Princess,” he murmured tenderly. “I like this show enough; just prefer Brit humor is all. Understandable, right?”

Buffy spared him a glance, pout in place, but then broke into a wide smile. Especially when she noticed his left brow raised, out of habit she supposed, in question.

“It’s fine,” Buffy giggled, “just being a little arrogant about an American show, I suppose. It’s silly of me, forget it,” she added sincerely.

“Can I ask you something, though?” Buffy asked as clicked off the TV and set the remote on the coffee table.

“Ask away,” Spike replied good-naturedly, pleased that the distracting telly was off and he had all of Buffy’s attention again.

Buffy scrunched up her face; peered into Spike’s blue eyes and asked, somberly…..”How ‘did’ you get that cute little scar on your left brow?”


Immediately, Buffy feared that she’d overstepped her bounds by the question. “Never mind,” she stammered quickly before Spike could reply. Her face felt like it was going to burst out in flame, she was blushing so profusely.

“That was rude, I’m sorry, Spike, I…..” she stuttered nervously as she turned her face away from him.

“Buffy,” Spike murmured lowly, reaching out to place a finger under her chin. He pulled her face, tenderly, about so their eyes could meet again.

“Its fine, Princess,” he whispered softly, “honestly. I’ve no problem with telling you the and wherefore of my little ‘war’ momento.”

“War momento? You were in a war?” Buffy asked in a girlish voice.

“No,” Spike chuckled deeply. “Not a war, like Iraq or something. Let’s just say I ‘went’ to war, when I was not quite fifteen. Just after my mum died,” he sighed.

Buffy watched the gleam in Spike’s eyes turn to a quick flash of pain. “Spike,” she stammered, “please, if you don’t want to talk about it…..”

“Nah, I’ll talk of it,” Spike grunted in a hushed tone. “It’ll do me good and cure your curiosity,” he snorted. “I’m not sad about it, Buffy,” he added quickly, “just a little embarrassed about it.

“Okay,” Buffy whispered as she snuggled back down into Spike’s strong, warm arms. “I’ll listen,” she murmured.

“I wasn’t quite fifteen,” Spike began slowly, “my mum had just died and my dad was havin’ fits about me. Well he should have since I was runnin’ with a bad bunch of blokes. Well, we got into a fray with some of our so called mortal enemies; me and the boys. Took on the toughest gang in London, really and won, but I came out on the short end of the stick.”

Buffy scrunched up her brows again and reached out to gingerly touch the scar. Spike didn’t pull away when she asked if it hurt, still.

“Nope, doesn’t hurt at all,” he responded honestly with a smirk. “Maybe my pride was a bit damaged, but it doesn’t hurt anymore. I just went to the hospital, that night, and had the cut sewed up neat and tidy. Worked out for the best, really,” he scowled momentarily before he finished.

“My dad had a job offer, over here in the States at the time. When I stumbled home from the emergency room, he made up his mind to take the job. It got me away from London and my wayward mates and brought me here, to America. Like I said, it worked out for the best and hey, after all? If that turf war hadn’t of happened; I’d might of not come here and ever eventually met you. Right?”

“Right,” Buffy murmured softly as she gently ran her fingers across the scar. “I guess we have those mortal enemies of yours to thank for your being here, huh?”

“I guess,” Spike mumbled under his breath. He brushed a stray lock of Buffy’s golden locks away from her cheek and smiled at her affectionately.

“I should probably get to bed,” Buffy offered almost reluctantly. “I’ve got an early day at the shop tomorrow,” she explained yet again.

“Okay, pet,” Spike sighed in obvious disappointment. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Right, the morning,” Buffy repeated his words with a look of disappointment of her own.

They sat; in silence for a moment or two before Buffy whispered cautiously, “do you think, if you join me in my bed,” she left the sentence unfinished and look up at Spike, hopefully.

“I’ll be the epitome of chivalry,” Spike replied evenly, his blue-eyed gaze bore into Buffy like a laser.

“Okay, then,” Buffy sighed dreamily, “maybe we should hit the sack and get some sleep? Sleep, only, right?” She stood up and reached out her tiny little hand to her new friend.

“Sleep only,” Spike replied reluctantly, “but don’t be surprised if things pop up and….”

Buffy twisted up her mouth and gave Spike a dubious look. “I’ll trust you on this one,” she mumbled under her breath.

Spike took Buffy’s hand and allowed her to lead him into her bedroom. He took in the décor; the red satin covered round bed; the bold, stark prints on the walls. Even the huge, golden statuette of the Chinese royal horse in the corner of the room.

‘This is going to be a long, long night,’ Spike realized with a heavy sigh.

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” he reassured Buffy once again as he lay down next to her in the red satin sheets. “But don’t think I’m going to like it,” he grumbled good-naturedly as he took her in his arms.

The next morning, Buffy awoke to the pleasant feel of Spike’s arms wrapped around her body. Sometime during the night, he had places his muscled leg over hers and nuzzled his face into her neck.

‘I could get used to this,’ Buffy thought to herself, contently. She disentangled herself from Spike, careful not to wake him.

Buffy padded into the bathroom and washed up, quickly, then headed into the kitchen. She flipped on the automatic coffee maker and began to search through the fridge for something for breakfast.

“Hey, you got up without me,” Spike called from the kitchen door. He had a boyish look of hurt on his face and it made Buffy’s heart lurch in her chest.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” she mumbled in explanation. “It’s kind of late, but I wanted to make you breakfast, before I go to the coffee shop and….”

“Can I go with?” Spike asked wistfully, his blue eyes full of childish hope.

“Sure,” Buffy stammered in reply. “If you want,” she added quickly. “I, I would like that,” she finished with a warm, welcoming smile.

“Okay then,” Spike grunted, all manly like. “I’m going to take a shower, Princess. Okay? I’ll be out in a jiff.”

Buffy began the coffee; heated up the toaster and started the fry pan. She was going to make some eggs, bacon and toast for them and hopefully, this would be to Spike’s liking.

A knock at her front door distracted Buffy and she flipped off the stove to go and check the peep hole.

“If that’s Xander,” Buffy muttered under her breath as she scurried to the front door.

“I’m going to kill him this time,” she finished with a low growl.

When she peered through the peep- hole, Buffy was nearly blown away by who stood out on her front porch. However, she threw the door wide and welcomed the two people there with open arms.

“Dawn, Connor!” Buffy squealed in obvious delight as she hugged her little sister and her boyfriend.

“Why are you here?” Buffy finally asked after she’d caught her breath. “I wasn’t expecting…..”

Spike took that opportune moment to saunter out into the living room, a damp towel wrapped strategically about his hips.

“Apparently you weren’t expecting ‘anyone’ Buffy,” Dawn giggled mischievously when she noticed the stunned blond Brit in her sister’s living room.

“Oh, shit,” Connor, Dawn’s fiancé cried in delighted disbelief. “You’re ‘him’ aren’t you? You ‘are’ freakin’ Dr. William Giles!”


A/N: Well, I was going for fun and fancy here and I hope I succeeded! The next chapter will reveal some facts about Dawn and Connor.

More Spuffy UST, of course, but never fear, something will eventually bring our Spike and Buffy together. Carnally that is….

Thank you for reading and please review, spufette.





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