Chapter 2: Tempo Andante
(from Italian andare, meaning 'to go'): Literally means 'moving along' or flowing, and is used to denote slow, but not very slow. Not as fast as allegro, not as slow as adagio.)
"He's so cute, Wills! I felt like one of those southern belles gettin' the vapors," Buffy gushed into the phone, laying on her bed on her stomach and kicking her legs idly in the air behind her.
"I know, you said that already," Willow laughed.
"Well, he's so hot that it has to be said more than once."
"You think that you'll be able to concentrate to learn how to play? What with your teacher being a fox, and all."
"I think so. I mean, it's hard because--Hello! There's this mega-hottie sitting right next to me, touching my hands and our thighs almost brushing together, but he kind of puts me at ease, too. It's hard to explain. Oh, his voice is so sexy! It has this--is it called a 'timbre'? Mmm, it's like I can feel it in my bones when he talks."
"I think someone's in looooove!" Willow teased.
Buffy giggled, curling her toes up, "Shut up! I am not!"
"Yeah, right! You've only been going on about him for a half hour straight. You seem to be totally over that butthole Angel already, thank goodness."
Buffy sighed. "I still have lingering feelings for the idiot, but I'm done thinking about him. He wasn't right for me, I just took too long to finally get hip to that fact. I'd much rather think about the yumminess that is
Spike. Mmmm, he's so cute and interesting! I can't wait until next week when I get to see him again."
"Are you going to study those music workbooks he gave you?"
"Yeah, of course! I want to impress him, you know? I don't want him thinking I'm a big dummy. I'm going to do some more studying after I get off the phone with you."
"Hehehe, you are in love! I never thought I'd see the day where you voluntarily studied for something."
"Ha-frickin'-Ha, Willow. You're too funny."
They laughed.
"Gotta go, I've got some music learnin' to do. Oh! I also want to search on the net for stuff about him."
"Yeah, it's pretty neat that he's a world renowned pianist. Think I can meet him sometime?"
"Sure, I want you to see him for yourself. But he's kind of hermit-like. He seemed alright--more than alright--when me and my mom were there. But his cousin, that other cute guy Wes, told my mom that Spike's a very private person. So I'd have to make sure with Spike first before I invited you to
over."
"Okay, I wouldn't want to wig him out or anything by showing up. He's not one of those hermit guys that has stacks of newspapers from like 20 years ago, wears Kleenex boxes on his feet or owns a used tissue collection, is he?"
"Willow! No, his house is neat and he's perfect. He's not creepy at all!"
"I'm just teasin', Buff. Sorry, didn't mean to insult the man that you love," Willow chuckled.
"Bitcha." Buffy grinned. "Okay, I really have to go now. I've got to get on the net."
"Happy surfin', Buff! Let me know if you find nude photos of him!"
Buffy did a Google search for 'William Eddowes', coming up with several listings. (Unfortunately, no nude pics though...) Then she picked a few CD's and used her credit card to order them from a website. She hit enter to confirm her order then sat back bouncing in her computer chair.
"3-5 business days, then I can hear some of Spike's performances." Buffy took her desktop calendar and circled today on it, so that she could keep track of the days it took for the CD‘s to arrive.
Buffy worried her bottom lip with her teeth. It was going to be hard waiting. She was an instant gratification kinda gal. Why couldn't those Star Trek transporter things exist today? Then she could have some Spike easy listenin’ goodness materialize on her desk instantaneously.
"Time to get crackin' on those workbooks."
Buffy was eager to study for her weekly appointments with Spike. Maybe she could even study ahead to impress him even more!
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Spike had begged off of having dinner with his cousin Wesley. Not that he didn't love his cousin or enjoy his company, but it was just that he'd rather be alone. As usual.
It was Wesley's persistent suggestions to start teaching that made Spike finally go for it. Spike knew that Wesley worried about him and his reclusiveness.
Wesley didn’t tell Spike all of his reasons, but he hoped that by taking students Spike might, A) Start rejoining the world around him and interact with more people, and B) Rediscover the joy of performing through his students' eyes. To Wesley, it was almost criminal that such a talented pianist didn’t perform for others.
Spike had finally decided to give teaching younger people a try, starting with just one, then expanding if he enjoyed it. And he had enjoyed the lesson he’d given today. Partly because it felt good to act like a normal person, and also because of the student. Buffy was a nice girl. She smelled lovely too--An aroma something akin to a delicious, flaky pastry, oddly enough. It made him think of freshly baked donuts...the kind with jelly or with the cream in the middle. Mmmmmm!
Shit, he was doing it again, staring off into space and thinking about Buffy Summers.
It was the height of curiosity that he should be reacting like this to her. Spike hadn’t dated, flirted with or had feelings for any woman in years. It was like he was dead from the waist down, and more importantly, his heart felt like it was in stasis. All because of what happened with Drusilla...
Spike and Dru had met when Spike was 16. He had finished giving a concert in London and was attending a party thrown in his honor by Drusilla’s wealthy father. Dru had looked resplendent that night, wearing a blue velvet, floor-length dress. Her chestnut hair had been done up in a complicated and beautiful mass of curls. Their eyes had met and locked from across the crowded room. Love at first sight. Like Romeo and Juliet. They had danced and stared into each other’s eyes the rest of the night.
Spike and Dru were together for the next four years. His love had been boundless. He would have done anything and everything for her. There was a period of time where Dru had been desperately ill, during which Spike took care of her, tending to her every need and helping to nurse her back to health. It had been (to that point) the worst time of his life. The thought of losing his Dru was terrifying. But he hadn’t shown it, Spike made certain that Dru never knew how frightened he was. He was the picture of optimism, telling her how everything would be fine. He only had words of love and comfort for her, accompanied by a reassuring smile.
Then one day, after her recovery, Spike saw her in the park near their apartment in New York City. She was making out with another man right there on a bench in broad daylight. Spike had wanted to murder them both on the spot, he was shaking and red with rage. But he didn’t approach them, deciding to go back home and wait for her. Spike was afraid that he really might end up killing someone if he confronted them in the park.
When Dru had come in the door, he pounced, demanding to know what she was doing with that man. She told him the truth. That she didn’t love Spike anymore, she’d been seeing other people behind his back. And now that Spike knew, she was leaving him.
Dru had packed up her things and been out by the next evening.
In many ways, Spike’s life had ended the moment he saw Dru in the park on that bench.
Drusilla was his dark Goddess. His raison d’être, his reason for being. Without her...life was meaningless. Nothing mattered. Not his music, his family, or his own existence. He was left a shell of his former self.
Spike had gone on a drinking binge after Dru left, hoping to drink himself to death. He’d thrown violent tantrums borne of anguish and anger, leaving his now lonely apartment in shambles. So much anger to go ‘round. He hated himself for the fact that he had begged her to stay with him even after she’d admitted to not loving him and having affairs. He had no self-respect or humility when it came to Drusilla. He was angry with himself that he wasn’t brave enough to kill himself and end his misery like he’d wanted to. Too much of a bloody coward.
Then the 'getting revenge on the ex' part of his grief came upon him. At another high society party, he met Harmony Kendall, she was pretty but dim-witted as a sheep. Spike regretted this later, but he took Harmony to bed. Not for good reasons, he had just wanted to get back at Dru and to get some kind of momentary relief from his miserable state.
Big, big mistake.
The sex had been good, Harm was a passionate and eager lover...But it left Spike feeling just as miserable as he had been before, even more so. You can’t forget the love of your life by shagging other girls. Harmony refused to leave him alone. She was smitten with him--the poor thing. No amount of convincing did the trick, Harm followed him like a puppy, begging for his favors. After a few break-ins at his post-Dru apartment, and a restraining order later, Spike had moved back to England for a while.
Time had been spent on therapists’ couches, talking about the disaster his relationship and his life had become. Questions and self-doubt assailed him constantly. He did something wrong. Was he too attentive? Not attentive enough? Was he too clingy? Somehow he had driven Dru away and into other men‘s arms. It was his fault, and he didn’t know what he’d done wrong. Anti-depressants helped chase the worst of the suicidal thoughts away, but he still felt so bloody...empty. Bereft of the energy to care about what life had in store for him.
Why bother caring? Real love didn't exist. You can give a person everything and they still won't love you. Love and romance had always been vitally important to Spike, that's the way he was wired. Which made Dru's infidelity and rejection of him all the more devastating.
It had taken performing twice in front of an audience after the breakup for Spike to realize that he had lost his passion for it. Music had been the focus of his life since he was 4-years-old. Now, it didn’t hold any thrill. Nothing did. That’s when he’d retired from public performances, and from life itself really. For four years, Drusilla had served as his muse and inspiration for everything he‘d done. But she was gone, taking Spike’s heart, soul and his capacity for joy with her.
Luckily, Spike had made enough money during his years of playing to live comfortably for a long time.
Spike’s eyes wandered over to the picture of himself and Jerry Lee on the bookshelf. It had been taken in far better times. Dru had still been his girl, he had been at the top of his game and happy. How he wished that he could go back in time and fix everything...
He remembered Buffy asking him about it. She was so cute. She didn’t even really know who Jerry Lee was. He smiled again. So young. So sweet. So lovely...built quite nicely too.
Why was he thinking about her like this? An image rose in his mind of Buffy with wind blowing through her free-flowing blonde hair, pursing her lips at him and running her hands up and down her sides.
No woman had interested or excited him in such a long time...Yet here he was, thinking of a teenager in erotic terms. Spike looked down at his groin--was that movement he felt? No...couldn’t be. Not in relation to a teenage girl - who had the loveliest green eyes, sweetest smell, brightest smile... There it was again!
“Oh bugger,” Spike said, staring down at the twitching lump in his trousers.
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Buffy was giddy with happiness when the UPS truck left a package on her doorstep. She grabbed it and ran up to her room with it.
Then she had listened to the first CD. Classical music hadn’t done anything for her in the past, but now, she found herself really listening to it. She closed her eyes and let the music wash over her. It was beautiful and moving. She held the CD case in her hands, looking from time to time at Spike’s photo on the back.
Her mother was right - Spike was brilliant. It didn’t seem possible that a human being’s hands could move that fast or produce such beautiful sounds. His playing of Chopin’s works made her quiver. Sure, it had a lot to do with the man who was playing the songs, but her newfound appreciation of classical music was going way up!
Buffy was taken on a roller coaster ride, feeling uplifted, then saddened, then hopeful and happy, by the songs. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed at the end of the CD. The applause of Spike’s audience (at the time of recording) thundered. She read the insert inside of the CD case again. It had been recorded when Spike was her age, 16. How someone her age could be so accomplished, so amazingly gifted, she couldn’t comprehend.
Spike was unbelievable. Not only did he possess a skill that most people could never aspire to, he was physically beautiful and sweet. Buffy hadn’t forgotten how he’d talked her up when her mother came by to pick her up. There was no way that he thought she was ‘quick’ or terribly smart. But he had said it, hoping to build her up, boost her ego and make her mom feel proud. Oh, Buffy wanted him to boost much, much more than her ego! (Though that could use some boosting as well!)
Buffy had never felt this kind of want for a man. It wasn’t just his looks any longer, his incredible talent also intrigued her. She wanted him. She wanted him in the worst way.
Buffy thought about Spike as she got ready for bed.
Then she slipped under the covers, pressing the start button on her stereo remote. Buffy listened to Spike’s performance, getting hotter and hornier. His hands--they were so supple and agile. What sounds could they produce by playing over her body, she wondered. Buffy bet that Spike knew where a woman’s clitoris was located--unlike Angel. To feel his fingers touching her there....Buffy’s own right hand moved down to her pussy, touching and rubbing.
She was actually getting off thinking of him and listening to him playing.
“Spike,” Buffy groaned in a whisper, imagining his fingers touching her. “Ohhhh Spike!”
Buffy ended up having a better orgasm just thinking about the bleached blonde pianist than she’d ever had with her actual boyfriend.
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The next lesson...
"That's very good, Buffy. You've obviously been doing your homework."
Buffy grinned proudly. “I have! I felt bad that I was all poo-pooey about studying. So I wanted to prove that I could do it.”
Spike laughed. “Well, you’ve done it. I can tell that you’ve worked on the books I gave you. I’m proud of you.”
Buffy turned red, looking away from his so-very-blue-eyes. She had masturbated to his image and music almost every night. It was a little wiggy looking him in the face after that. Buffy wanted to admit how she had ordered his CD’s, but she worried that she’d give away how very much she had enjoyed listening to them.
“I’m glad that you’ve decided to give it a try, Buffy. I’ll do my best to instruct you, if you do your best to learn.”
“I will, Spike.” Buffy ran her right hand along the keys. “The piano really is a beautiful instrument. I’m excited about learning from you. When did you start playing?”
“Well, I started a bit early. One of those prodigy types.”
“That’s neat! How old were you?”
“I was 4.”
“WOW!” Buffy gaped at him. “That’s practically a baby! You could play at that age?”
“That’s when I started my love affair with the piano. It took a bit for me to do well.”
“How long?”
“Buffy, we shouldn’t be talking about me. This is about you.”
“I know. But I’m interested.” She smiled broadly. “I want to know more about my wonderful teacher.”
Spike laughed. “Okay, I’ll answer your questions. I just don’t want you to feel discouraged. I was a rare case, someone who had an inborn talent for playing.”
“I won’t be discouraged. I just want to know.”
“I started playing when I was 4. My mother was a musician, so there was a piano in the house for me to play around with. It felt like I had played before. I just knew how to play certain things without being shown. I’ve always had a photographic memory, only with music. I can play anything that I listen to.”
“Oh, that’s so cool!” Buffy said. “I’ve heard of people who can....what’s it called....play by ear?”
“Yes,” Spike said, grinning at her. “That’s it. I can hear anything and just play it.”
“Wow...” Buffy shook her head. “That’s so amazing! I wish I had some skill like that.”
“I’m sure you have some talent or skill that comes naturally to you.”
Buffy looked down, shaking her head. “Nope. I’m stupid.”
“Don’t say that!”
Buffy looked up at his vehemence. She blinked at the fire in his eyes.
“Don’t ever put yourself down, Buffy.” Spike put his hands on her shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. “You are special. It doesn’t matter if you don’t have obvious gifts. I know that you have something special inside of you, just waiting to get out. Don’t doubt yourself.”
Buffy felt so turned on, she couldn’t stand it! She said quietly, “Okay....I’ll...try to remember that.”
Spike stared at her a few moments longer, then smiled and backed off. “Sorry if I got to weird there...”
“No. I--I appreciate what you said.”
“I just believe strongly that everyone has something special about them. There could be a million things that you’re meant to do. You just have to find the right one.” Spike looked back at her. “Piano or music might not be your ‘certain something’, but playing will give you benefits.”
“Like what?”
“Like...when I’ve played in the past, I’ve felt such--peace. Such oneness with the universe.” Spike looked at her and laughed. “Hope I don’t sound like too much of a hippie. But music can really help you relax, whether playing or listening to it.”
“Oh, I agree!” Buffy said, nodding avidly. “It can be a balm for the soul.”
Spike tilted his head to the left and smiled in a most sexy way. “Yeah. That’s it, exactly.”
Buffy’s insides puddled. Could Spike look any more delicious? Before she
could control her mouth, she said, “I loved the Chopin and Mozart pieces on
your CD’s.”
Spike’s smile quirked, his brows lowered. “You’ve listened to some of my performances?”
Buffy knew that she was blushing hard. “Yeah, I...I ordered some of your stuff when I started. I wanted to hear you play.”
“Buffy, that’s so studious of you. You must really care about the quality of your lessons to check up on your instructor.”
“Well, yeah...But I really wanted to see what your stuff sounded like. My mom said that you were ‘brilliant’. I wanted to hear for myself.”
“And the verdict?”
She blinked, looking into his eyes and wishing that she could kiss him. ”Brilliant.”
Spike blushed a little and shook his head. “What you would say. Your own word or words.”
“I’d say...beautiful. Passionate...Powerful.”
“The original composers are the ones to credit. They created the pieces.”
“Yeah, but you were the one who brought them to life. You interpreted it for those people, like me, who couldn’t duplicate it. You made it beautiful and accessible. You don‘t understand. I never listened to classical music--voluntarily, before. But I got interested in hearing it last week. I like it now.”
“Really? You do?
“Uh-huh! It’s--um--I don’t know the right word....”
“Just use the words you know.”
“It’s so...nuanced? I’m not sure if that’s right. But I mean that it takes for you to really listen to ’get it’.”
Spike nodded, smiling lopsidedly. “That’s a very apt description.”
“You’re amazing, Spike,” she said, tilting her head to the side.
Spike swallowed at the passion and admiration that he saw in her eyes as she spoke. “Th-Thank you, Buffy.” He looked away. “I’m...very flattered that I’ve inspired a new appreciation for the Masters in you.”
“You have! I really like Chopin. And tons of others. Beethoven is cool, I’d heard some of his stuff before, but it’s much cooler than I first thought.”
“You know, Beethoven was so impassioned when he played, that keys and strings often went flying into the air?” Spike laughed.
Buffy smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Really? Wow! He must have been strong!”
“Perhaps he was, but pianos weren’t built as sturdily as they are today.”
“Who’s your favorite composer?” Buffy asked.
“There are so many that I love and admire. But, I’d have to say Mozart is the one that I most enjoy.”
“Mozart, yeah. I saw the movie! He was cool!”
Spike smiled. “Yeah, that was a good movie. What sort of things do you enjoy doing?”
Buffy looked away, shyly. “Oh, just stupid stuff. Not like the stuff you do.”
“Stop that.”
His tone made her look up at him again.
“Buffy, nothing that you enjoy or that you’re good at could be stupid. If there’s something that you love, don’t be ashamed or embarrassed of it. Embrace it.”
Buffy felt so warm and comfortable with him. Maybe she even....loved him a little bit. “I...um, am good at gymnastics.”
“Well, there you go! That’s not something everyone can do,” Spike said, smiling at her.
“I guess.” Buffy blushed.
“You guess correctly. Everyone has something that makes them special. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t learn other things, or develop additional skills.” Geez, when did he get so bloody optimistic? Buffy just seemed to bring that side out in him. “Maybe your forte is more in the physical realm, but you can still learn how to play an instrument well.”
“Do you think I can get good enough to be in a band?”
“A band?”
“Um, yeah. My friend Willow and I want to start a rock band and I need to learn how to play something. I decided on the piano.”
Spike smiled, his face was actually starting to ache from smiling at Buffy so much. “That’s wonderful, Buffy. I think that you can do anything that you put your mind to. I can’t objectively say after only two lessons, but if you keep up your commitment? I don’t doubt that you can do anything. You’re a girl who goes after what she wants, I can tell.”
“Yeah,” Buffy breathed. Thinking that HE was what she wanted most of all. No man--No one, for that matter--had ever talked to her like this before. Her parents had done the whole ‘you can be President Buffy’ speech. But when he said it, she really believed it.
“There’s nothing like making or listening to music. It can inspire you. It can take you to peaks and valleys of emotion that you never imagined. It can make you feel.”
Buffy nodded, her lips parted, gazing at Spike.
They were beginning to get lost in each other’s eyes....
“I really appreciate all the nice things you said, Spike. I’ll remember what you said.” Buffy touched his knee, not in a seductive way, more of a friendly gesture. Though she wanted it to be much friendlier.
Spike blinked, sliding his leg out from under her hand. “No problem, Buffy. Um, let’s--let’s move on to the next lesson. We can’t spend the whole time gabbing, can we? I think you’re ready for another song. How about,” he turned some pages, “’Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’?” He hoped that she couldn’t tell how rattled he was.
“Mozart wrote that, right?” Buffy asked.
Spike smiled at her. “Yeah. He did.”
The rest of the lesson went on without further incident.
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Spike was in bed, halfway between sleep and wakefulness. His mind drifted on it's own.
Buffy.
Golden-haired, sweet, pretty Buffy. She smelled so good today, that delicious pastry smell. When she'd touched his knee, he had to keep from shivering and his eyes from fluttering. It was just his luck that it took a 16-year-old to make him feel like a man again - sure of himself, strong, amorous, virile...horny.
Very, very horny.
What if it were possible? What if it were okay to touch her? To be with her....
Spike smiled softly at that train of thought. His mind created a happy scenario where he could have everything that he wanted with no moral difficulties or consequences...
He imagined the lesson he'd given her earlier today, going a bit differently...
Buffy took off her jacket. Spike was turned towards her, sitting on the piano bench.
Spike, not concerned about being caught leering at her, smiled and raked his eyes over her body. He curled his tongue up over his top teeth.
"You see something you like?" Buffy asked, smiling right back at him. She batted her eyes coquettishly.
"Yes. Most definitely."
Buffy swung her hips, walking over to him. He unhesitatingly put his hands on her hips, looking up at her face.
"I want you, Spike," Buffy moaned. "I want to feel your hands all over me!"
Spike stood up, pulling her up against his body. He kissed her hard on the lips. Their tongues pushed into the other’s mouths, dueling passionately.
"Mmmm! Spike!"
"Buffy!" Spike breathed, moving his hand up under her shirt. He palmed one of her firm tits, squeezing and rubbing the nipple.
Buffy pulled away from him. With a depraved twist to her lips, she dropped down to her knees, running her hands down his body to his waist. "Can I suck your cock?" she asked, already pulling down his zipper. “Let me do it to you, Spike. I want to do it!”
"Yes! God, yes!"
Buffy smiled up at him as she released him from his pants. She licked it a few times, then surrounded the head with her lips. She moaned, sliding her mouth down around him.
"Oh Buffy--Suck it! God--Suck my cock, pet!" Spike yelled deliriously.
In reality, Spike was smiling slightly and moaning. His hand sought out his hardening dick under the covers. He started stroking himself in time with the Fantasy Buffy's mouth.
"Ahhh--Yes, Buffy!" he whispered.
Spike suddenly snapped out of the fantasy, realizing what he was doing. He dropped his cock like it were a hot iron and sat up in bed, looking spooked.
Spike was upset with himself. "Oh God, what am I doing?! I can't think of her like that! She's a little girl!" He put his hands over his eyes.
His inner-voice said, 'She's young, but she's not a little girl. She's a woman. C'mon, how long has it been since a woman made you hard? How long since you wanted a woman? You know you want her! That high, perky little ass. Those mouthwatering tits. Those juicy lips....'
"No," Spike groaned. "No, I won't think of her like that again. I won't. It's wrong!"
The voice added sarcastically, 'Yeah. Good luck with all that, mate!'
"Shower. Cold shower," he muttered, stumbling out of bed.
Spike would do whatever it took to get the improper thoughts for his student out of his head.
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Buffy had a dream of her own that night...
She saw a large, soft bed covered in violet-colored silk sheets and pillows.
She saw herself and Spike in the middle of the bed, their limbs entangled, his body draped over hers.
"Oh Buffy," Spike kissed her neck. "I adore you! I worship you!"
"Yes! Tell me more!" Buffy grinned, running her hands up his arms.
“I love you! You are my Goddess!”
“Oh Spike! I adore you too!”
“You’re so beautiful. I must have you!”
“Ohhhh!” Buffy moaned. “Take me, Spike! I want you so bad!”
“Uhhh--Buffy! I want you too! I love you!”
“Ohh! Oh Spike! I love you!”
Just as his big, hard cock (she knew he had to be well-endowed; she just knew it) was pushing against her, Buffy was awakened by a knocking on her bedroom door.
“Buffy, honey?! Are you awake? Your alarm went off, but you didn’t get up. You feel okay?”
“Uh....Yeah, Mom. I’m....awake.”
‘Shit! Damn! Fuck!’ Buffy thought, pounding her fists on her mattress.
In her dream, she was just about to get some Spike lovin’. She’d never get any of that in real life....or would she? What if she could seduce him? What if she could make him weaken (from silly age concerns) and horny enough to take her as his lover? Oh...that would be perfect! Buffy would have him. It was decided, Buffy would set out on a campaign of seduction. Age difference or no, Buffy wanted Spike. It was critical that she at least try.
Next week, she would begin. She hopped out of bed to get ready for school.
TBC...
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