Chapter Thirteen- Past, Present, Future
“Buffy?” Spike asked in surprise when he opened his door. “What are you doing here, pet?”
After the scene with Angel, she’d rushed to her car not wanting to be anywhere else but with Spike. “I managed to get away,” she said softly, her usual confidence lessened from her encounter with Angel. “Am I interrupting something?”
Spike shook his head, opening the door wider and pulling her inside. “No, of course not. Just surprised is all.”
As soon as the door was closed, she was in his arms. For the first time, it was just a hug. She wasn’t pressing her body up against his in need, just comfort. He could feel the change and wrapped his arms around her petite body tightly, wondering what brought on this sudden change in her.
“Is everything alright, Buffy?”
She nodded against his chest. “Yeah why?” she murmured.
“Because you’re acting...different,” he said slowly.
She pulled back, her eyes flashing angrily. “Why? Because I didn’t come barreling in here ready for sex?”
“Well, yeah,” he replied with a chuckle, hoping to lighten the situation, but only making her angrier.
“Okay, fine,” she declared, her hands racing down his body. She took a firm hold of his cock, stroking him through his sweat pants. “Let’s go.” Wrapping her other arm around his neck, she pulled him to her roughly. Her kisses were fast and hard and her hand was rubbing him almost to the point of pain.
Spike tried to get her to slow down, but she wouldn’t. Sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, she bit down a little too hard.
“Buffy, stop.”
He pulled his head out of her reach, taking hold of her arms to still her movements. The flinch of pain didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, removing his hands guiltily.
Buffy looked away from him. “You didn’t.”
He reached out to touch her again, resting his hand on the exact spot that was still sore from Angel’s strong grip. She flinched again, this time pulling away from him completely. Spike’s eyes narrowed angrily. “Did someone else?”
“No, it’s nothing,” she assured him, grateful for the coverage her long sleeved dress was offering her.
Spike pulled a reluctant Buffy back into his arms, peppering kisses across her face and neck. “Baby, if something happened you can tell me.”
Instead of answering him she started kissing him again, slower than before. Her arms rested on his biceps, hoping to distract him enough so he’d forget or at least stop asking questions. What happened with Angel had been an accident, and she knew Spike wouldn’t understand.
His hands slid down to the hem of her dress, rubbing the soft skin of her outer thighs. Getting lost in his touch, her own hands drifted down to the waistband of his pants. Before her wandering hands could get much lower, he was pulling her dress over her head and tossing it out of reach.
Quick as a rabbit, his hand was on her wrist stilling her as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp. He inspected her entire right arm, stopping when he reached just above her elbow. Her skin was red and starting to turn purple. The bruise was big, the size of a man’s palm.
“What the hell happened, Buffy?” Spike asked, his voice loud and angry.
“It was an accident,” she told him. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Why don’t you explain it to me?”
“I was walking away to go home and Angel-“
“Son of a bitch!” Spike exclaimed releasing her wrist. He paced in front of her, his jaw clenching and unclenching, his hands balled into fists.
“He was just trying to stop me, he didn’t mean to hurt me,” Buffy insisted. “Spike!” she yelled when he didn’t stop pacing and ranting.
He finally stilled, turning to face her. “He shouldn’t touch you like that.”
“You’re right and he apologized for it.” He was visibly calmer now as she approached him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I don’t want to talk about Angel. I came here to be with you.”
Spike nodded leaning in for a soft, chaste kiss. Bringing his hands down to cup her ass, he lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his middle as he carried her into his bedroom. As soon as he laid her on the mattress, his sweat pants were shed at his feet leaving him naked before her.
He wanted to take things slow, to show her how gentle a man could be and leave her wondering what the hell she ever saw in that oversized wanker. Gently removing her pumps and placing them on the floor beneath the bed he pulled her to a sitting position, moving behind her to trail kisses down her exposed back.
A shiver ran down her spine as his mouth worked on the skin of her lower back. His hands snaked around to her front to cup her bare breasts. They fit perfectly in his hands, her nipples hardening from his attention. She moaned as his thumbs flicked over the hardened nubs, arching back into him.
“God, Spike...” she breathed.
He waited for her to finish, but no words left her perfect mouth. He knew what she wanted to say, because it was exactly what he wanted to hear. “Yeah, baby?”
But she didn’t finish. Craning her neck back, her lips captured his, her tongue invading his mouth to tangle with his. She moaned into his mouth as he removed his hands from her aching breasts and brought them down to her waist. Turning her, he pushed her back gently against the mattress.
Spike continued to disrobe her, easing her panties down her legs and caressing her with his hands as he did. She couldn’t help but think that he was making love to her, and she found the thought less disturbing than it had been before as she let herself get lost to his touch.
***
Hours later she was wrapped in his arms, her head resting on his chest listening to him breathe and his heart beat. “Spike?” she called softly, hoping he was still awake.
“Yeah?” he responded groggily.
Her fingers traced circles over the skin of his abdomen. “Do you ever think about the future?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“What do you think about?”
“About getting married and having kids. Retiring and moving to Hawaii to spend all my time surfing.”
“You surf?” she interrupted.
He chuckled. “Yeah, all the time.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Now you do.” His hand moved to play in her long, blonde tresses.
“Do you think about what you want your wife to be like?”
“Yeah, but it changes depending on who I’m thinking of,” he told her. “I had a different idea of a wife when I was with Cecily than I did with Dru.”
“Do you want your wife to work?”
“If she wants to, I guess. Doesn’t really matter to me,” he replied off-handedly.
“Do you have enough money for her not to?”
“Yeah, I make a pretty good salary. Where are all these questions coming from?”
Buffy shrugged. “Just curious. What was Drusilla going to be?”
“She was studying to be an English professor.”
“Like you,” she replied sadly. He and his former seemed to have much more in common than they did. Buffy could barely pass English and they were both experts on the subject.
As much as Angel had annoyed her with his claims on her future, she felt certain that he would always take care of her. With Spike she could be who she wanted, but right now she had no idea who that was. Angel was perfectly happy with a doting, stay at home wife but would Spike be? He surfed, read poetry, taught thousands of students-he was an intellectual if she’d ever met one and she was far from studious. She wondered how long before he grew tired of being with a woman who probably wouldn’t finish college.
“Buffy?”
He waited until she turned her head to look up at him. “Don’t worry too much about the future,” he said, taking her hand in his and resting it against his chest. “Things can happen to change it, no matter how much you plan for it.”
The look in his eyes told her he was thinking of both his broken engagements. Life had thrown him two huge curve balls and he was still standing on two solid feet. She needed to start thinking about where she’d be without Angel or Spike to rely on. Right now that left her back where she began, with her parents. At twenty years old she had nothing to show for her two and a half years at UC Sunnydale besides two incredibly fucked up relationships.
“You’re right,” she said finally, moving to straddle his waist. “Besides, the present’s not so bad.”
She could tell he agreed with her.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
As someone pointed out in a review last chapter Harvard is not in Connecticut. However, I'm not going to change it because this is fiction anyway and Connecticut just sounds better. But thank you to whoever pointed it out.