Chapter 5: The Morning After
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Morning found the Summers’ house quietly the next day. Dawn hastily fumbled for her alarm clock when its shrill ring filled the room. School was the devil, but apparently she had to do it, not literally, only figuratively. 'Cause literally...ewwww. Now that she thought about it, school probably wasn't really the devil, however, she thought the principal was pretty shady…
The ring of the alarm clock sounded again and she smashed her hand against it, trying to shut it off. Finally sitting up, she found the right button to push, ending the ringing in her ears. Dawn waited a moment to see if Buffy was up, and when she didn’t hear anything, she made a quick sprint to the bathroom, taking advantage of its emptiness.
After using all the hot water she felt necessary, she got dressed and headed down to the kitchen. The fact that she found it empty didn’t startle her. Her sister was still getting use to the whole getting up early thing. She gave Buffy another ten minutes of sleep while she chugged down a glass of juice and ate half a bowl of cereal. Deciding she’d given Buffy enough time, she quickly ran up the stairs.
Dawn opened the door to her sister’s room, ready to yell at the top of her lungs for her to wake up and came to a dead stop at what she saw. Spike and Buffy were in bed together, Spike curled protectively around Buffy, both sound asleep.
The wave of jealousy she felt at seeing one of her crushes with her sister was squashed by the happiness she felt at two of her favorite people being together.
Holding back her squeal of joy, Dawn backtracked out the door. She tried to close it as quietly as she could but there was nothing to stop the loud click of the latch, which woke Buffy up with a yawn, and sent Dawn dashing down the stairs before she could be yelled at.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy couldn’t remember ever sleeping better in her entire life. No nightmares, no dreams, nothing but peaceful sleep. She was wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, a strong arm wrapped around her making her feel safe and secure. It was perfect. There was nothing that could have made it more perfect, except for the need to use the bathroom to go away.
It was as she was lacing her fingers with the hand on her stomach that she froze, all thoughts of the bathroom flying out the window. Her eyes popped open as her heart sped up.
A peek under the blanket showed a hand with a set of chipped black fingernails and there was no doubt in her mind who was in bed with her. A little part of her sighed in relief that it wasn’t some random stranger; the other part of her was panicking. How had she gotten into bed with him in the first place?
It slowly came to her in bits and pieces, waiting for Spike on the couch and falling asleep, him carrying her upstairs when he showed up, her refusing to let him go and how she had literally pulled him on the bed. The last part made her blush in embarrassment. She vaguely remembered making a deal of letting Spike go if he came back to bed, and so there he was, in her bed, just like she wanted. She couldn’t remember much else after that.
Buffy then became aware of other things, like the way his nose was resting against her neck and the way he held her tightly towards him, like she would disappear if he let go. His body fit perfectly against hers, apparently better than she would have thought, realizing that something very hard was pressed against the cleft of her bottom, something that sent her heart racing and made the room seem just that much warmer.
This was not good.
What was it that had woken her up? The door, more specifically, the door closing. Oh god! Dawn had seen them, together, in her bed!
This was SO not good.
Buffy was trying to carefully extract herself from the bed and Spike’s grasp when she looked over her shoulder at him. Not only was Spike in her bed, but he was also apparently naked. The shock sent her flying and she fell off the side of the bed, taking the blankets with her.
“Buffy?” Spike’s sleep filled voice called out, making her stop scrambling in the tangled ball of sheets.
She found the edge and carefully peeked out to find Spike's face close to hers, having moved from the middle of the bed to the side.
Spike was like a dream, stretched out along her bed, his head a mess of curls that was begging for her fingers to run through them, his eyes only half open, still heavy with sleep. His alabaster skin glowed lightly with the soft light that crept from under the closed curtains. If he was worried about being naked in front of her, he didn’t show it. He was like a lounging cat with not a care in the world. The sheet that she hadn’t managed to pull all the way off was pooled around his waist so she couldn’t see all of him, not that she needed to, because that would be bad, very bad.
Buffy quickly averted her eyes and used the blanket to block most of her view of him, instead focusing on the eyes that were silently laughing at her. She could feel her anger rising and she latched onto it.
“Spike!” she snapped in a harsh whisper. “What are you doing in my bed? And why are you naked?”
“Well, was sleepin’ until you decided to nick the blankets. Now get your arse back up here so we can go back to sleep,” he said, but he said ‘sleep’ in a way that made her think of anything but sleep.
“Are you crazy?” she questioned as she worked on untangling the blanket from around her. “Why would I get back in bed with you?”
“Because you’re my wife,” Spike answered with a leer, wiggling his eyebrows at her, managing to arouse and piss her off in the way only he could.
“Only in the pretending to be sense.”
“Fine, have it your way, but you were singin’ a different tune last night,” he commented, stretching out his body and causing her eyes to drift downward where the sheet was still covering him.
Then his words penetrated her haze.
“What? You mean you, me, with the…and the…” Buffy spluttered, blinking at him, her mind conjuring up some very convincing images.
Spike used her moment’s distraction to pull the blankets back, hauling her up with them.
Buffy ended up sprawled on Spike’s bare chest, laying half on top of him. The feel of him under her made her close her eyes and she fought the urge to give a little moan when his hand pressed on the small of her back, forcing her closer to him and trapping one of his legs between hers. The positioning was awkward and Buffy wiggled against Spike, trying to get more comfortable, and in doing so, the hard line of his hip rubbed against her center. She gave a loud moan, her arousal perfuming the air and drawing a growl from the vampire under her.
She braced herself on his chest, the muscles clenching underneath her palms. Spike’s own evidence of arousal was firm along her hip and she couldn’t help but give another little wiggle, watching his reaction. His jaw went taut, the muscles in his neck cording tight as his eyes rolled close.
It was intoxicating, the overwhelming sense of power she felt.
Buffy gave another wiggle or two, each time increasing the pressure. She’d never done this before but soon found a smooth rhythm, gaining some pleasure in return as she ground against his hip.
“Oh god, Buffy,” Spike gasped out in a broken voice.
The sound of her name had her stopping cold. What was she doing?
Her pause made Spike buck his hips, causing a shudder to run through her body. Her body responded on autopilot and she took back up her rhythm. She really shouldn’t have been doing this, but she couldn’t stop. It was like she had no control over her body. It was so focused on the pleasure that Spike’s body was producing that there was no room for thought.
She looked up to see Spike’s eyes open, a dazed look in them. He was panting right along side her, his body craving release just as much as hers as it moved in sync with hers.
“Buffy?” Dawn’s voice came from the other side of the closed door.
Her name being said earlier hadn’t stopped her, but this time it did. Buffy scrambled off of Spike, taking some of the blankets with her once again. Her breathing was harsh, even to her own ears, and she backed up from the bed until her back hit the wall. Spike watched her with wide eyes, still prone on the bed.
“Yeah Dawnie?” she called out with a shaky voice, her body quaking with need.
“I don’t want to interrupt anything, but I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving to school now. Have fun, bye!”
“Dawn, nothing’s--” Buffy began but she could hear Dawn already running down the stairs and then the front door opening and closing. Buffy tried to look anywhere than at him, but her eyes were magnetically pulled to him, just like her body had been.
Spike was breathing hard, fists clenched at his side. He could see Buffy’s pulse thumping at her neck and her heartbeat was like a live pulse in the room. Her arousal still hung heavy in the air and if he could have licked the air, he would have; instead he pulled in one deep lungful after another, his erection throbbing harder each time.
“Buffy,” Spike said softly in a low rumble, noting with a satisfactory smile as she closed her eyes and a shiver ran through her. “Come on love, I know you want this.”
“No, I don’t,” Buffy argued, even as her body protested. How could she have let this happen again? She could not get involved with him; she could not be with Spike. It was…wrong.
“Please kitten. You were so close. I can make it so good for you.”
She couldn’t. It was bad, and wrong. Spike was a vampire, a vampire without a soul.
“Spike, I don’t know what the hell came over me, but it’s not going to happen again, ever. So whatever you might be thinking is going to happen, it’s not. What happened earlier was a mistake, one that will not be repeated. You got that?”
“Right,” Spike drawled sarcastically. “Whatever you need to tell yourself pet. Now I’m knackered. Had a busy night,” he noted with a smug smile, making Buffy’s breath stop, a thought occurring to her. “So either finish what you started or give back the blankets and go,” he continued flippantly. Oh, he knew he shouldn’t be pushing her buttons, but he was hard, pissed off, and had no way to relieve either one.
“Oh I’ll give you back the damn blankets,” she huffed as she threw the blankets at him, making sure he was still covered up before tackling him. She dug her knees into his ribs while pinning his wrist on either side of his head and giving them a painful squeeze.
“Oi Slayer, no damagin’ the goods,” he teased but there was a slight tightness around his eyes. He knew his comment was going to set her off, he just didn’t know exactly what her reaction would be. That’s why he liked her so much, bloody unpredictable.
“There will be damaging if I want to. Spike, did anything happen last night?” Buffy prompted, giving his wrists another squeeze.
“What do you think pet?”
“I think I’m looking at a vampire who’s about to become a pile of dust.”
He was honesty shocked for a moment. He didn’t think Buffy would outright accuse him of taking full advantage of her, that she would think that low of him. Spike stared at her for only a moment before shaking his head, a look of anger appearing in his eyes that surprised her.
“Nothin’ happened. You really think I’d do somethin’ like that?” he asked in disbelief.
“Spike, you’re a vampire, not exactly all with the moral compass having.”
“That’s not something I do, ever. Not to you, not to anyone,” he said quietly but there was still a fine line of anger in his voice.
“And I’m suppose to believe you?”
“Do you see me pressin’ you to finish what you started earlier? And if you’re that concerned, check under the covers.”
“What?” Buffy blinked at him.
Spike just gave her a look, daring her to do it.
Slowly, she rose up and lifted the edge of the covers, just to reveal the line of his leg. What she found wasn’t his bare skin but his worn pair of black jeans.
For the first time, Buffy felt slightly ashamed of herself. After everything so far and what she’d accepted last night, she shouldn’t have been accusing him of anything like that.
“Spike, I…” she started, letting go of his wrists so she could cradle her arms around herself.
“Yeah, whatever Slayer, now get off me,” Spike ordered.
“What?”
“I said get off me,” he ordered again.
The look in his eyes was something that Buffy never wanted to see, and never directed at her. She did the only thing she could think of that would take it away and kissed him. While his lips were as soft as ever underneath hers, they remained unresponsive and she pulled back after a moment.
“Get off,” Spike growled at her, his eyes fierce, glittering with held back anger.
Buffy didn’t know how she did it but she moved herself off of him, her eyes never leaving his. Spike was the one that finally broke the gaze as he got off the bed, grabbing his stuff from the floor and heading towards the door.
“Guess you can’t keep a guy interested after all,” he remarked with a sneer before closing the door behind him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy knew Spike hadn’t left the house. The tingles that danced across the back of her neck let her know that. She was still sitting on the bed where Spike had left her, the last line he’d said repeating in her head. Maybe it was her fault all the guys in her life left. It wasn’t like any of them were still around to prove her wrong. Other than Spike that was, but she seemed to be doing a good job of getting rid of him. That’s what she wanted, right? She wanted Spike gone?
As much as she would have wished it true before, deep down she knew she didn’t. For whatever insane reason, Spike helped make her life work. She hated that she had to depend on him, but she knew that without him their plan to keep Dawn would never work, and she definitely didn’t stand a chance against Glory without him.
Why had she agreed to Dawn’s plan again? It just seemed to be messing her up more than it was helping.
So Spike was in her life, period. There was no way around it. He was a friend.
A friend whose bones she’d tried to jump twice now. She really needed to stop doing that.
She flashed back on the look in Spike’s eyes that morning and she couldn’t help but flinch. Even Spike didn’t deserve what she’d said to him that morning, but there was nothing she could do about it now.
With a heavy sigh, Buffy gathered her things and took a quick shower. When she went back to her room for clothes, she realized she really needed to do laundry. Gathering the clothes around her room, she put them in a basket and began the trek downstairs to the basement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the shadows of the darkened basement, Spike leaned against the wall, a cigarette hanging from his lips, smoke curling into the air. The cool, damp air was getting rid of Buffy’s scent that clung to him like a second skin.
“Bloody bitch!” he yelled as he threw his cigarette and punched the wall. Slumping down on the floor, Spike licked what little blood there was on his knuckles and cursed.
She toyed with him, played with him. She was driving him bonkers. One minute she was kissing him for all he was worth and the next she couldn’t push him away fast enough. He shouldn’t be surprised, it was what he’d grown to expect from her.
Overhead, the pipes gave a small groan and then there was the sound of running water.
Buffy was taking a shower.
The pants that had loosened where suddenly tight again, even more so as Spike took a deep breath, her scent still clinging to him. The idea that Buffy was just two floors above him, taking a shower had him reaching for his belt and zipper, retching both open. He easily fell into his own hand and he took up a leisurely pace as his mind mapped out Buffy’s body naked under a steady stream of water.
With her scent around him, he could almost imagine that it was her hand wrapped around him, bringing him off. So lost in his fantasy, Spike didn’t give any thought to being caught. When the pleasure swept over him, he erupted onto his shirt, giving a strangled moan.
“Buggering hell,” he complained when his head cleared, pulling off his shirt and cleaning himself off as best as he could. His pants had survived but his shirt was going to need a wash. He rolled it up into a ball and left it on the floor. Getting up, he sat down on a pile of boxes, his duster beside him.
He had just finished lighting up another cigarette when the door to the basement opened, Buffy appearing at the top of the stairs. Her brows were drawn together in thought as she came down and it wasn’t until he spoke that she gave a small jump and turned to look at him.
“Washing away the evidence?” he asked, noting the basket of clothes she was holding.
“There’s nothing to wash away,” she answered, trying not to look at him.
“Glad you finally got that right,” he mumbled.
“Where’s your shirt?” Buffy asked as she began to load clothes into the washer and went about adding soap and detergent.
Spike debated telling her the truth just to see her reaction. He finally decided against it. “It got dirty.”
“Bring it to me. I’ll wash it,” she added without turning around.
Spike stood studying her a moment. When she turned to look at him, offering a small smile, he figured this was her idea of an apology. It was lousy but it was more than he’d ever gotten before. He wanted to call her on it but when he got wind of the laundry detergent that plagued his dreams every night, there was no way her could pass up the chance for him to have his shirt smell like it. Crushing the cigarette under his boot, he grabbed his shirt off the floor and walked towards her, placing it in the washer with her clothes.
“Thanks pet,” he said, taking a step back from her. As much as he wanted to be mad at her, she just had to look at him and it all melted away.
“Nice knuckles,” she commented with a guilty smile as she closed the lid of the washer.
“Was a bit angry. The wall seemed pretty receptive to it.”
“I bet. You hungry?” Buffy asked hesitantly.
There it was, the peace offering.
“Could do with some food,” Spike finally answered.
Buffy gave him a tentative smile and then the two began making their way upstairs.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tbc…