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That thin, hazy sliver of time between sleep and waking, that period where there lies only contentment and a strangely secure sense of bliss was where she lingered. Buffy felt so safe, so warm and secure, so... loved?!?!
Opening her eyes just a bit, she was momentarily confused to see a riot of blonde curls resting on her upper chest. She looked down further to see the darkest, longest eyelashes and most beautiful full lips, ever so slightly parted. Those features should be illegal on any man.
Spike's face was resting on its side, his mouth just beside her left nipple as though he had spent the night as a babe suckling her breast, just moments ago releasing it sated and sleeping. God, he was the picture of heavenly innocence! She could stare at him for hours on end like this if it weren’t for the fact she had no idea how long they’d slept or what time it was. She had to at least get up and phone Anya to see if everything was alright at the gallery. Anya might be pissed that she hadn’t called her first thing that morning, but once she found out how many orgasms William had given her, well, let’s just say Anya would be more than understanding.
He felt her fingers running gently through his hair as he opened his eyes. “Buffy,” he whispered, the vision of her nipple so close to his mouth made his manhood wake up as well. When he rubbed his erection against her leg she scolded him, saying she had to get up and go into work.
“You know how to spoil a bloke’s fun, you know that, pet?” When she giggled, he kissed her breast and started tonguing her nipple until she pushed on his head to make him stop ‘or else’. He knew she had to leave eventually but of course it never hurt to try and persuade her to stay right where she was. Since it was clear she wasn’t having it when she sat up and left the bed to find her clothes, he hoped she wasn’t going to just rush out the door. “You still need some breakfast, you didn’ eat a whole lot yesterday.”
Turning around as she pulled his sweatshirt over her head, she began a search of the surrounding area while answering him. “I need to call Anya first. Make sure she doesn’t need me before I say yes.”
She crouched beside the bed, disappearing from view. He turned over and propped himself up to see the top of her head. “What are you doin’?”
“Searching for my underwear. Have you seen them?”
He smiled mischievously. “Nope, can’ say that I have.” He carefully reached under the pillow and grabbed her knickers, shoving them inside the pillowcase just to be sure in the event she checked the bed. “Want me to help you look?”
“Erghhh,” she groaned and stood, propping her hands on both hips with an irritated look on her face. “No. I’ll look for them again after breakfast.”
He tried to hide the smile on his face as he got off the bed.
“What are you smiling about?” He looked like he was up to something, probably no good either.
“Nothin’.” He walked past her towards the bathroom and gave a playful swat to her bare arse as she bent over to pull on his sweatpants.
“HEY!!!” Before he could slam the door, she managed her own cheap shot to his naked cheeks and shook her head in amusement at his childish antics when he laughed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So,” he slapped his hands together, rubbing them briskly before pushing the long sleeves of his black, thermal shirt up to the elbows. “Wha’s your favorite breakfast in the whole world and how much time do I have to make it?”
She was sitting at his table while he stood near the stove waiting for her to answer.
“Hmmmm, favorite breakfast in the whole world? I’d say my faaaaavorite is probably crepes, but ever since you made me that omelet, that’s my favorite now.” She giggled when he smiled shyly. “What, a girl can’t change her mind?”
“No, tha’s not it. `S jus’ that you don’ have to flatter me. I’ll make whatever you want.”
“HAH, with YOUR over inflated ego I’d be afraid to flatter you. You might blow up and then I’d be covered in black leather goo and bleached chunks of hair.”
“Oi!!! I happen to love that coat. And it’s not bleach... ’s Clairol’s ‘platinum champagne’ I’ll have you know.” He defended himself while donning his favorite apron which read ‘kiss my bass’.
“Uh-huh, sure.” He wears an apron while cooking? Odd. Seemed like a feminine thing in her mind but she dismissed it. Judging from the spotless condition of his apartment, he was obviously a clean-freak so it probably extended itself in the kitchen with the whole apron thingy.
“Technically I should already BE at work, but since I own my business I can... oh shit! I forgot to call Anya.”
He watched her dig through her purse for her cell phone and left her to it, preferring to get started on breakfast. He smiled to himself as he pulled out his cookware to begin. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t make, but just in case, he would make both and let her decide which she would eat.
“... yes, Anya, many orga... many of them.” Silence. “No, not NOW, I’ll tell you about it later... fine. Okay, see ya then and oh, don’t forget about the party tonight. Bye.” Clicking her phone shut, she tried to hide the blush in her cheeks from the near slip of the word ‘orgasm’. Luckily, William had been busy and with his back to her, humming away as he worked. She stood up to go see what he was doing when he spoke, his back still facing her.
“Sit your pretty arse back down, Buffy,” he warned. “It’ll be ready shortly.”
“Jeez. Grumpy much?” She plopped back down and started tapping her fingers nervously against the tabletop. She didn’t mind be ‘waited on’ but she wasn’t used to it either.
“And stop that bloody tappin’ before I come over there and make you put those lovely fingers `f yours to better use.” He felt something hit his back and turned around to find a snickering Buffy with her hand over her mouth. She’d used the towel he left on the table to throw at him in response to his warning. He kept a straight face even though he loved her little display of playfulness. He held up his spatula and waved it at her. “If I didn’ need to keep these eggs from burnin’, you know I’d follow through on that threat, right?”
“You better not!” She sat up straight when she saw the serious look on his face. When he broke down laughing she shot across the short distance between them, retrieved the towel and rolled it up quickly to snap his ass with it. “Jerk.” He laughed along with her and danced from side to side, waving his hand to protect his ass as she rolled it back up, faking him out by lunging forward several times before delivering the final blow once he let his guard down.
“Why don’ you go... sit on the couch or somethin’, luv. I’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.”
“Fine.” She spoke like a defiant, pouty kid. “If that’s the way you feel about it.” She stuck her tongue out at him and turned on her heels, holding her head in the air. She heard him laugh and spared him a smile over her shoulder.
She sat down, placed an arm over the back of the couch and rested her head in a position so she could watch him as he cooked.
He has the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen in my life.
---Yeah, he really does, doesn’t he? The inner slut acceded with a sigh.
What do you want?
Hopefully she wasn’t here to taunt her about having sex this morning.
---Nothing, just taking in the view. Although... since you’re asking, I’ll tell ya. That!
Buffy could practically see the image of her pointing towards William in the kitchen.
---Everyday for the rest of my life.
No way was she going to get roped into a discussion of this nature. When he decides to let me in on all his... I don’t know what to call it... ‘dealings’, then I am sooooo not going there.
---Blind as a bat and twice as stupid. Open your eyes, this is your future husb...
NOT LISTENING, lalalalalalalalala...
She turned away from William and started searching for the remote to his TV to drown out anything more the bitch had to say. She was about to press the ‘on’ button when she caught sight of the piano again. Setting the remote down, she got up and walked over to it. Sitting down on the mahogany bench, she tilted her head to the side in order to read the titles off the stack of books that lay on top.
‘Chopin’s Greatest’, ‘Czerny School of Velocity’, Hanon... Mozart... ‘Bach Two and Three-part Inventions... Bach... Bach... Bach... Wow. Sure she’d heard of some of these people, but now that she saw his little collection, which by the way more than half consisted of this Bach guy, well, no wonder he knew all those little facts about him when they played the dinner guest game at her house.
She ran her fingers down the books and pulled one out at random, flipping through it in awe as she saw the scrambly looking, ant-sized notes tightly packed together. When she was little, she remembered her mother forcing her to take lessons until two years later, she cried her eyes out saying she didn’t want to play, she just wanted to be a cheerleader. She set the opened book on the stand and used her index finger to press a single ivory key. She knew how to read the notes and what they were, but she barely got past learning how to use both hands together to play ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’.
Her fingers moved to play the next three notes when suddenly, a hand settled on her shoulder, scaring the bejesus out of her.
“AHHH,” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Fucking-A, William,” she panted from the shock of her life. “Don’t DO that to me.”
His hearty laughter filled the room as he rubbed her shoulders. “`M sorry, pet. I thought you heard me comin’. Didn’ mean to scare ya.” He looked at the open book in front of her. “You play?”
“Oh no, not since I was eleven. I went into cheerleading after two years of forced lessons. Looks like you do though. Damn, how do you get your fingers to do... to do...” she pointed at the book. “THAT?”
He chuckled as she scooted over to let him sit next to her. Propping an elbow on the console he tapped his finger on the title of the piece. “Ahhhh, lovely choice, Etude in C Minor. One of my favorites, though I’ve yet to master this one.” He looked at her with amusement when she spread her hands over the keyboard.
“By all means.” She was very curious to see just how good he was.
“Breakfast is gettin’ cold as we speak, no time for playin’.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Welllll, I suppose if you’re not up to the task. Or is this all really just for display?” She smiled when he looked upset.
“Move over.” He barked. She dared to call him a liar?
She stood and threw her hands in the air. “What-everrrrrr, Mr. J.S. Bach.” She got him good, apparently right where it counted most, judging from the pissy look on his face.
“This is Chopin, luv, not Bach.” He turned his attention to the music and cracked his knuckles a few times then closed his eyes.
She watched as his nostrils flared when he took a deep breath and his jaw twitch twice before opening his eyes and laying his fingers gently on the keys.
What flowed through his fingers as he commenced playing knocked her on her ass. Not only could he play, but she could barely follow the blur of his fingers since the music went so fast. During certain parts, he closed his eyes and let his fingers take over as if he didn’t even need to read the notes he was playing. The piece was beautiful and his performance, at least to her, seemed flawless. He looked utterly possessed with seriousness etching across his sharp, handsome features, making her decide he looked sexier in this moment than she’d ever seen him. If she were wearing panties, she would have creamed them for sure. Finishing on two solid, loud chords he withdrew his hands from the keyboard and looked to her.
“You were sayin’?”
“I, uhhh, I, uh stand... corrected?”
He chuckled then grinned mischievously, swinging his legs around to face her. Grabbing at her waist, he dragged her to stand between his knees. “Want me to...” he banded his arms around her and cocked his head to the side. “Play some more?”
She stood motionless as he placed his face against her stomach and gripped her shirt with his teeth. Say something, Buffy, say something quick before you end up fucking his brains out right here on this bench.
“Breakfast.” He looked up at her questioningly. “Breakfast, yup. You mentioned breakfast was getting cold. I’m hungry are you hungry? Yeah, let’s go.”
Her words were so rushed, he knew he was making her nervous, so he kissed her belly and let her go. “Sure, pet. Le’s go eat.” She nodded her head vigorously and walked ahead of him, sitting down at the table once she’d reached it.
Taking out the spread in front of her she gasped. It all looked so beautiful she was afraid to touch it. There was the omelet as promised but he’d made crepes as well, adorned with sliced fruit and whipped cream. “Okay, this is too much.”
“Wha’s that?” He sat down and shook out a napkin to lay it across his lap.
“You cook, your house is cleaner than mine, you play piano better than...” she was using both hands to tick off the list with her fingers. “Liberace. You’re smart, sexy, you’re, well... REALLY good in bed and so sweet and caring sometimes that... and you’re... you’re...” She threw him an accusing look. “Either you’re a true geek or you were engineered in a lab by some German geneticist to be the perfect man.”
At first he burst out laughing, but seeing she was somewhat serious with her flattery, he wasn’t sure how to respond. The modest side of him blushed openly in front of her. If she thought he was the perfect man, she had yet to see how he would treat her once she was officially his.
“`M jus’ a man, Buffy. Eat up.” He nodded in the direction of her plate and busied himself by digging into his own, hoping this was the end of the conversation. Of course he was pleased by her compliments, but he didn’t feel it was right to let Spike’s attitude into this conversation.
“I-I...” Surprisingly, he cut her off by changing the subject. She thought for sure he was going to go all smug on her.
“How did you find out where I lived?” Shoving a bite of crepe into his mouth, he watched her expression change back to normal as she engaged his question.
“Oh that? Let’s just say Anya can be quite... persuasive when it comes to extracting information from pre-pubescent delivery boys.” She raised her eyebrows twice to emphasize her point. “Please don’t ask me to elaborate on that, I’d like my appetite to remain long enough to finish my meal here.”
“`Nough said,” he chuckled. “I get it.” After taking a sip of juice, he set his glass back down and gave her a pensive look before leaning his jaw over his folded hands, elbows propped on the table in front of him. He’d overheard a part of her phone conversation when she mentioned a party later that evening and decided it was best he come forth with his knowledge of knowing exactly where she would be that night. “Buffy,” he started carefully, “I, uhmmm, well, I have to tell you somethin’.”
“Shoot.” She wasn’t even looking at him, too busy stuffing her face full of the delicious food he’d made, surprising herself that she was able to pack it all away inside her small stomach.
“Lorne invited me to his Halloween party tonight but... I know that you’re goin’ as well and,” he ran a nervous hand through his ungelled locks as she stopped mid chew to stare at him. “`M not gonna go for that very reason. I don’ wanna make you feel uncomfortable by bein’ there and ruin any of your fun.” There. He’d said it. Hopefully she’d understand and hopefully, he’d done the right thing by telling her in the first place.
“Oh, mmph.” She held up a finger and chewed the mouthful of food that prevented clear speech, trying to process this new information as she swallowed. Dabbing her mouth with a napkin and composing herself, she tried not to sound too surprised, probably because she shouldn’t be after the conversation with Lorne last night enlightened her to the fact he and William were good friends. “Uhmm, wow. I didn’t, I mean... you should go.”
“Huh?” He didn’t expect her to say that.
“I guess, what I mean to say is that, well, we’re both adults, right? And it’s obvious you have every right to go anywhere you want. So I think you should go if you want to, i-if you had plans to. It would be sorta childish for you to stay away just because I’ll be there too.”
“Really?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Really. Go, have fun tonight.”
“But, I know you want some space, some time, some... bloody hell, to NOT see me, Buffy.” If she was truly okay with this then of course he would go. Not to have a good time so much as to see her, even if he had to keep his distance, he at least wanted to lay eyes on her.
“Go if that’s what you want. I’m alright with it and besides, it’s not like we’ll be hanging out together or anything. Okay?”
He nodded once in response and together they finished the rest of their meal. Despite the favorable outcome of the conversation, there was an atmosphere of uncomfortable silence lingering between them.
He was the first to get up, clearing the table of their dishes while asking if she wanted to shower. When she shook her head, saying she needed to go back to her place where she could brush the moss from her teeth, they finally smiled at one another. Finishing up in the kitchen, he retrieved her coat, shoes and purse while she went to the bathroom and changed back into her own clothes, minus one pair of panties of course.
Buffy came back to find William standing by the door, looking melancholy as she strode towards him, fastening the last button of her white dress shirt.
“Thank you for taking care of me last night, for letting me stay, for... everything.” She smiled at him and slipped into her coat as he held it open for her. He didn’t speak right away but took the time to gather her hair from under the collar of her coat, pulling it free and smoothing it down. He tugged her jacket together when she turned around and buttoned it for her as if she were a child.
“You’re welcome.” It was killing him inside to see her leave but what choice did he have? Tie her up and keep her hostage? It was a tempting thought, but at least he had tonight to look forward to. Even if he couldn’t touch her, speak to her, at least he would see her. It was enough. It would have to be. He prayed Lorne would have the papers for Grisanti’s ready to sign by next weekend and that he’d pull off the ‘four more jobs’ that were necessary for the funding. The sooner he could tell her everything, the better his chances were in becoming a permanent fixture in her life.
“`M sorry.” He lowered his head even as his hands remained on her shoulders, fingering her silky locks.
“For what?” His apology confused her.
Removing his hands, he shoved them deep into his pockets, locked his elbows straight and looked up at her. “I didn’ know it was your birthday and I ruined it by actin’ like a right wanker. `M so sorry, Buffy, I wish I could take it back, wish I could...”
“Shhh.” She raised her hand to hold his cheek, forcing a surprised look to cross his features. “Forgiven and forgotten.” Stepping forward she placed her other hand against his opposite cheek and kissed his lips briefly then let go and opened the door, stepping through to leave.
“Buffy?”
“Yeah?” She turned around.
“When can we talk again?” He needed something from her, some verbal proof from her own lips that they would talk again.
She stared at him for several long moments before settling on an answer. Her voice, though full of conviction, held a hint of sadness.
“When you’re ready to tell me everything, Spike... William. Whenever you’re ready.” Turning around, she walked down the steps, forcing herself not to look back. She never heard the door shut and could feel the weight of his stare on her retreating form until she disappeared around the corner.
A/N: Hope you all enjoyed. Next chapter we’ll be going to LA for the Halloween Party. For those of you interested, I’ve been hard at work writing the 3rd installment about our ‘Frenchman’ William from Language of Love/Lessons in Love. I’m not sure when I’ll post, but when I do, the title to look for is ‘Living for Love’ - You can thank Blondiebear for her part in helping me make the decision to round it out as a trilogy, *giggles*, when she threatens someone, she’s not joking around. Also, I’m getting closer to posting one of two brand new fics. Again, if anyone is interested the title to look for is ‘In the ARMY Now’.