Buffy finished washing her face and reached for a towel to dry off. The reflection she saw in the mirror made her realize what she’d said to Dawn about being really, really tired was all too was true. She tried to smile at herself, but could only manage a half-hearted smirk. “Oh well,” she thought, “things seem pretty under control out there. I think I can safely take one night off from patrolling to get some sleep for a change.”
Returning to her bedroom, Buffy pulled on a tank top and pajama pants and slipped under the covers. She reached to turn out her bedside lamp and sunk into the pillow, sighing deeply as she stretched her legs and closed her eyes, trying mightily to empty her mind. Tired as she was, her head was still whirring with activity. She knew there would be no sleep until she could at least slow down the synapses.
Attempting one of Giles’ meditation tricks, Buffy took a deep breath and released it very slowly as she imagined a calm stillness settling over her from the top of her head down over her face to her throat and chest and then gradually all the way to her feet. When the breath was all gone, she drew in another and repeated the process. But this time, when the imaginary wave of serenity reached her lips, the memory of Riley’s tepid kiss came rushing back. She shook off the thought, stubbornly returning her concentration to the meditation and focusing all her attention on the sensation of relaxation.
Buffy started again, taking a deep breath and initiating the wave of quiet emptiness from the top of her head once more. As her breath flowed evenly out of her mouth, Buffy felt the wave descend to her shoulders. When it reached her chest she felt her nipples stiffen. A pleasant warmth accompanied the abrupt pebbling of her sensitive flesh as Buffy returned to the memory of a very different kiss. Without premeditation, her hands found her breasts and pressed into them, attempting to alleviate the ache that suddenly asserted itself, demanding her attention. Gently chafing the hard peaks through the thin fabric of the tank top, it was impossible to ignore the surge of desire that pulsed through her body in response. Abandoning the meditation without another thought, Buffy pinched her nipples hard and pressed her thighs together to intensify the jolt of pleasure that immediately bathed her core in heat.
“I might as well just get it over with,” she thought. “The longer I pretend I’m going to go to sleep without working off a little of this pressure, the less sleep I’m going to get.” With that, Buffy reached one hand down the front of her pajama pants, brushing it gently across the soft curls at the apex of her legs. Even that subtle touch sent a throb of sensation all the way through her limbs. The other hand remained at her breast, her thumb strumming the nipple with steadily increasing speed.
The intensity of Buffy’s excitement mounted rapidly. She’d had plenty of practice giving herself pleasure, after all. Yet, despite the familiarity of the terrain she was revisiting, this time something was different. Without parting her legs, she slid two fingers into the narrow channel created by her tightly closed thighs. At the extremity of her reach, the fleshy lips of her vulva were already slippery. She dipped her fingers into the exquisitely slick wetness and spread it upward toward her clit, stopping just short of stroking the button of nerves. She could tell, even without touching, it was fully engorged. Buffy faced a familiar dilemma. Should she slide her now thickly lubricated fingers over the sensitive bit of flesh, knowing an orgasm would wash over her in a matter of seconds? Or, should she prolong the excitement, by directing her touch to areas less likely to send her careening over the edge?
Buffy continued to tease her lower folds with her fingers as she pondered these questions, her breath and heartbeat accelerating as her arousal increased. Before much longer she knew she wouldn’t need to make a decision. Eventually her fingers would go on autopilot, and she’d be biting her lips to keep from screaming as spasms of pleasure coursed deliciously through her whole body.
The pressure was building steadily now, every nerve straining for release, when a brand new stimulus brought her even closer to her release. The feeling seemed to exaggerate everything she was already experiencing. Though vaguely familiar, layered on top of her body’s growing response, it was not immediately recognizable. When Buffy finally knew what she was feeling, it was too late to stop the tsunami. Already inextricably writhing in the throes of a truly monumental orgasm, Buffy realized her Slayer senses were telling her a vampire was near—and not just any vampire.
**********
Spike didn’t rush as he crossed town to assume his post by the tree at 1630 Revello Drive. The route was familiar enough, since he had traveled it most nights for weeks, but he tried to interest himself in the passing scenery none-the-less. The least he could do, he reasoned, was take his time getting there. It wasn’t much, but his pride wouldn’t stand the implication that he couldn’t stay away. The absurdity of straggling along to convince himself he hadn’t gone totally Mary Poppins wasn’t lost on Spike. But it was, by now, an old game. The object of the game was clear enough: provide purely theoretical evidence he hadn’t gone soft. Whether or not he was winning remained impossible to judge.
Ignoring the stupidity of his attempt at self-deception, Spike sauntered at a measured pace through the dark streets of Sunnydale, pretending to examine the architecture as he passed homes and office buildings in his path. It wasn’t a long walk, and there wasn’t much of any real interest along the way. When he did finally arrive at Buffy’s house, there was no light in her bedroom window, only a soft glow in the kitchen window.
Spike scanned the ground floor first and quickly picked up Dawn’s unmistakable heartbeat. She was awake and moving around the kitchen. Satisfied that Dawn was safe, he shifted his attention to the second floor where he identified Joyce’s steady pulse next. Spike was grateful to know she was sleeping well. Medical treatments had left Joyce depleted in ways that reminded him of his own mother’s declining health so many years ago. Joyce needed her rest and he was glad she was getting some.
As he prepared to train his senses on Buffy’s dark bedroom, Spike noted it was still pretty early by Slayer standards. On many previous nights he had simply held his post, smoking in the shadow of the tree, until she returned. Ready to do so again, he reached out his vampire hearing and was more than a little surprised to hear Buffy’s heart pounding at an alarming rate. Fearing the worst, Spike leapt up the trunk of the tree and across a branch that stopped just short of her window. But instead of the struggle he expected, Spike arrived at his perch just in time to hear the unmistakable gasps and whimpers of a woman experiencing an explosive orgasm—and not just any woman.
********
In her bed, Buffy froze. Still panting slightly from her exertions, she couldn’t decide whether she was more angry, embarrassed, or excited. Her senses told her Spike was right outside her window. She knew he had both contributed to and witnessed her completion. Something Dawn said earlier filled her with an uncharacteristic resolve, ignoring all of the reasons she shouldn’t, Buffy climbed out of bed and opened her window.
“Hello, Spike,” she said, looking directly at him.
“B-b-b-b-b-buffy,” he stammered in response, a look of sheer panic in his eyes as he grabbed for the branch to steady himself. “I didn’t….I mean, I thought you…I mean…” Spike stopped sputtering long enough to notice Buffy’s smile. His expression instantly changed from terrified to confused. “Hello?” he ventured.
“What are you doing up here?” she asked, without betraying the slightest suggestion of accusation or suspicion.
Spike had to adapt quickly to Buffy’s surprisingly friendly reception. “I came by…you know… make sure everybody’s tucked in for the night.” He paused, waiting for a sign he was still on solid ground, but Buffy just raised her eyebrows, waiting. “I thought you were under some sort of attack,” he explained. “I thought you needed my help.” At this he could not restrain himself from smirking. “Guess I was wrong about that.”
Buffy blushed scarlet, but she kept her gaze steady. “That’s just it, Spike. Something happened to me… I felt something when you got here,” she said, keeping her voice even. “It seems you did help me, even if you didn’t mean to.”
Spike stared in disbelief. He had gotten used to feeling at least slightly aroused by her mere presence, but it had never occurred to him the effect might be mutual.
“What exactly are you saying?” he asked, genuinely baffled.
“I’m saying that I’m not normal now, and I’ll never be normal.”
Spike’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Huh?”
“Never mind,” Buffy answered, shaking her head. Then, noticing Spike flinch at her apparent dismissal, she added, “It was just something Dawn said earlier.”
“Bit’s a smart girl. I expect there’s something to it, if she said it.” He wanted to pursue the topic of how he’d “helped” her, but thought it wiser to let her bring the conversation back to that when she was ready. For now, he decided to go with the flow. “Do you want to be normal?” he asked, looking at Buffy with genuine concern.
Buffy thought for a moment. “No,” she replied, very quietly, looking at her hands. “I used to think I did. But now I don’t think so.”
“What happened?”
This time Buffy took a little longer to answer. She knew what had happened, she just wasn’t sure she wanted to admit it. But she was also tired of pretending to be someone she wasn’t. For once, she thought, I’ll just follow my heart. “You,” she said with a sigh.
“Excuse me?”
“You! You happened, you stupid vampire,” she looked at him like he was the densest person she’d ever met. “You know, ‘you Spike, me Buffy.’ I think there’s…like, you know…something…between us.” Buffy stopped, silently begging him not to ask her to elaborate.
She was sitting on the window sill, twisting the hem of her tank top with both hands. Stunned as he was by her admission, he didn’t want to get pushy and screw it up. Although he’d never admit it, he was content just to be with her. She looked lovely, her skin bathed in moonlight, the tank top barely covering her breasts. Without being too obvious about it, Spike inhaled, drawing in a heady dose of her scent. “Oh yeah,” he thought. “I’d happily help her produce a gallon of that musk. I’d fuckin’ drown myself in it if I could.”
“So, that’s it? That’s your reaction? You’re just going to sit there?” she demanded, snapping Spike back to reality.
“No! I mean…yes. I mean, I don’t know.” Being temporarily lost in a reverie, he didn’t remember now if she’d asked him a question. “What do you want me to do, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice very soft. “You’ve got to know by now I’d do just about anything for you.”
The blush came back in force. “Well, I can’t seem to stop thinking about that kiss,” she said, her eyes downcast. “I guess I want you to kiss me.”
“I think that can be arranged,” he purred. “But you should come out here, or I should go in there. I don’t fancy trying to catch you from here if you faint again.”
Buffy rolled her eyes ostentatiously. “I’m not half-starved or dehydrated. I’m not going to faint.”
Spike tried to look serious. “What if it wasn’t the lack of food and drink? What if it was something else?”
“Like what?” she asked.
“I think you know,” he said. “But I can show you if you like.” His voice had gone all velvet again and his eyes sparked with tiny shards of gold. When the tip of his tongue appeared, sliding slowly along the bottom of his upper teeth, Buffy caved.
“Come on in,” she said, stepping back from the window and into her room. “I don’t want to sit in the tree. It has ants.”
Spike laughed. “So the big strong vampire Slayer is afraid of ants now?”
“Not afraid,” she protested. “I just don’t like them crawling on me.” Buffy wrinkled her nose as she said this, and Spike, already pretty far gone, found the gesture adorable.
Crossing the short distance between the tree branch and Buffy’s window took Spike about a sixteenth of a second. Finding himself in her room, at last, he nearly fainted. Surrounded by her scent, Spike staggered slightly before regaining his equilibrium.
“Are you alright?” Buffy asked, touching his arm. The contact only intensified the assault on his senses. Spike blinked hard, took a deep unnecessarily breath and reached for her.
“I’ve never been so fine,” he said, sweeping her into his arms and finding her mouth with his. Buffy yielded to the embrace, and Spike wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in leather. His lips felt firm, gentle, and urgent all at once. When his tongue traced her mouth, Buffy responded in kind, and then invited him to deepen the kiss by darting her tongue into his mouth and dragging it across his teeth. Spike’s reaction was as intense as it was instantaneous, a vampire’s canines being one of his most sensitive erogenous zones. Never releasing her lips, he reached down with both hands to cup Buffy’s bottom and brought her pelvis flush with his. There was no mistaking the hard length of his erection through taut denim. When he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, Buffy sucked it hungrily. Then, grasping his shoulders with her hands, she wrapped her legs around his hips and practically climbed up his body. Never interrupting their kiss, Buffy’s hands plunged into Spike’s hair; her fingers busily freeing his curls from their gel.
For just a moment, Spike went completely still. Gently kissing her bruised lips, he carefully untangled Buffy’s body from around his and set her feet back on the carpet. With his forehead pressed against hers he took another useless breath. “I can’t believe what I’m about to say,” he began. Looking at her, his eyes dark with lust, he took her hands in his and held them to his chest. “I think we need to slow down.”
Tbc……………..
A/N: I know that's an evil place to stop. But I just couldn't resist. Please leave a review and let me know what you think. Happy 2007!!