Chapter 7: Keeping It Simple
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In her haste to get away from Spike, Buffy found herself missing a step and braced herself for impact. Two strong arms grabbed her before she could hit the wood steps and dragged her back down towards him. She began to struggle in earnest but Spike quickly immobilized her with his body, pressing her against the cool concrete of the basement wall.
“Let. Me. Go,” she ordered, her voice clipped, still trying to free herself of Spike’s hold.
“I don’t think so, Slayer,” Spike rasped against her ear. “Keep struggling, makes me all hot. Wigglin’ that gorgeous body of yours.”
Buffy could just imagine the expression on his face, curling his tongue at her, the smirk she wanted to smack off his face. While his words didn’t stop her fighting, the grinding of his arousal into her backside did. A low throb began at the apex of her thighs that seemed to beat in rhythm with her heart, the sensuous glide of his body against hers making it pulse and jump, her suddenly hard nipples chafing against the wall.
“Now, where were we? Oh yes, how you don’t trust yourself to keep your hands of my hot body,” he continued, still moving alongside her.
How could he think when he was doing that? She was having trouble forming a clear thought. All she wanted to do was feel. She could feel her own moisture pooling and the slow throb was becoming more urgent.
“So you don’t trust yourself?” he questioned.
“Yes, er, no. I mean…” Buffy couldn’t think, too focused on the pulse in her body that begged for release.
“Because you want me?” he prompted, with a subtle shift of his body. He’d maneuvered himself so a leg rested between hers, and he thrust it up against her core. As he felt her heat soak through his jeans, his ears caught the instinctive gasp she uttered.
“Yes, no, no,” she babbled, her hips pressing back down on the leg between hers.
“Tsk, Slayer, it’s not nice to lie,” Spike reprimanded, his voice going dangerously low. He drew one hand between her body and the wall, cupping her mound and applying the slightest of pressure. “Do you want this, kitten? Do you want me to make you feel so good?”
Buffy knew she shouldn’t. It would cross a line that she had vowed not to cross; but her body was singing to his touch and she really wasn't capable of logical thought. She just wanted to ease the tension that was filling her body. She knew there’d be consequences, but did she really care at the moment? No.
“Yes,” she whispered quietly.
“What was that, love?” Spike asked, as he nudged her hair off her neck and licked a path along it before blowing a cool stream of air across it that set her shivering.
“Yes,” Buffy repeated louder.
“Yes what?”
He wanted to hear her say it out loud, hear it from that luscious mouth of hers.
“Yes… I want you,” she finally let out on a breath.
Her pants were undone and Spike’s fingers were playing along her slit before she had time to take another breath. She was slick and he easily slid one slender finger into her, his thumb tapping on her clit in rhythm with her heart, catching her breath in her throat.
“That’s my Slayer,” Spike purred against her neck. “So hot and wet, squeezing my finger. You like this, don’t ya?”
“Y-y-yes,” Buffy sputtered. God did she.
His fingers pumped in and out of her, thumb swirling across her nubbin. Her blood pounded in her ears, eyes squeezed shut as she let Spike play her body.
“When you say you don’t trust yourself, what did you mean?” Spike questioned, even as his hand kept up a perfect tempo, his voice steady.
“What?” Buffy managed to get out.
“You said you don’t trust yourself. Did you mean with me, or did that also include the Bit?”
Buffy tried to think about it, but really, she was having trouble focusing.
“You either answer the question or I’ll stop what I’m doing,” Spike threatened.
“No!” Buffy shouted. “I mean,” she paused, again trying to make her brain function. When she had originally said it, it was because of Spike, but now that he’d put that out there… Maybe she’d also gone to Spike because she really didn’t trust herself to properly take care of Dawn. There was always that possibility that she would mess up somehow. She realized then that she counted on Spike to tell her the truth, no matter how much it hurt or upset her. He was the one person that she could always count on to tell her how it was.
“I think, maybe both,” she finally admitted.
“Slayer,” Spike started, his hand never wavering, “You know that I’d never let anything happen to Dawn, or to you. You know that. You know I’d do anything for you.”
Buffy opened her mouth to argue, only to have her words stolen from her when Spike slipped another finger inside her.
“I’ll catch you. If you fall, I’ll catch you,” Spike whispered into her ear.
Buffy knew it was true, and it scared her how much she wanted to let him catch her. She was the Slayer, she didn’t let other people catch her, she caught herself; but with Spike, she felt safe. She knew he would be there no matter what.
“Fall,” Spike commanded, curling his fingers inside and hitting that spot inside that had her screaming her release.
“Spike!” she yelled as the throb in her body exploded in a burst of heat, the world falling away and all that was tangible was Spike’s body against her back, his thumb still rubbing lazy circles on her clit, drawing out her pleasure. She couldn’t remember ever feeling more content than she did at that moment, and like Spike had said, he was there to catch her.
Spike was nuzzling at her neck, mumbling words of endearment, and she was comfortable to let him continue, until she felt the scrape of his teeth; it was enough to jar her out of her bliss and realize exactly what she had done and with whom.
Spike must have felt the tension that flooded her body, because he slowly removed his hand and stepped back, letting her turn around.
“I--” Buffy started but she couldn’t get the words out.
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes still slightly glazed over and Spike never thought she looked more beautiful. Beyond that, he could see the internal fight happening inside her, whether to be mad, or embarrassed.
“Shh, pet,” he whispered, taking a tiny step forward to capture her lips.
His kiss was soft and Buffy found herself responding to it, the tension slowly leaving her body. It amazed her how easily Spike could calm her down; but then, it only seemed right since it was just as easy for him to piss her off.
“Spike, I--you--we…”
“What Buffy?” he asked when she fell silent, concern evident in his eyes.
“I’m just so confused,” she quietly confessed, staring down at the tiny gap that separated them. Suddenly the cement floor of the basement had never been quite so interesting.
“Why’s that?” he persisted, trying to catch her eyes.
“Other than the total and complete wrongness of this?” she reminded as she looked up. “Spike, we can’t, I can’t. It’s wrong,” she finally settled on with a frown.
“Why? Because you’re the Slayer, and I’m a vamp?” He took her silence for an answer. “Yeah, I think we’ve both been over this. How about I make it simple for you? I’m a man, you’re a woman; I want you, and you want me. Simple enough?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“You know it’s not that simple!” Buffy argued back.
“It is if you want it to be!” Spike shot back, running a hand agitatedly through his hair. “Look, you make it complicated because you let what everyone else thinks taint your view. Now, answer this question honestly, and without worryin’ about everything and everyone else.” He leaned himself closer to her, their noses almost touching, his hands on the wall on either side of her head. “What do you want?” he asked, staring her straight in the eyes.
What did she want? Wasn’t that the question of the year. Looking at his face, all she really wanted to do was suck that plump lower lip into her mouth until he made that noise that filled her with womanly satisfaction. Spike was still watching her expectantly and she tried to clear her head of thoughts of kissing him.
“What I want…” she repeated, finding it a little hard to think with Spike so close, her body still thrumming with the pleasure he’d wrought on it. “I want to be able to take care of Dawn,” she started and found the rest coming out without any effort. “I want to figure out a way to get rid of Glory. I don’t want to be worrying every second if I’m going to lose Dawn.”
“I’m gonna tell you now that you can only do so much. Gotta take care of what you can and let the rest work itself out,” he added with a shrug.
“You make it sound so simple.”
“That’s because it is. It can be.”
“Right, simple. I can do simple,” she mumbled.
Simple resulted in her reaching out and tugging him towards her, pulling that lip between hers, smiling when he groaned. Then he was really kissing her and it was a tangle of lips and limbs. Buffy finally let go to breathe, resting her forehead against his and staring into bottomless blue eyes.
Spike was right. Simple was easy; simple was good. Only she had a feeling that simple was going to get a lot more messy and complicated once they added the rest of her life to the equation.
“What?” Spike asked after a moment.
Again, it should have surprised her how easy it was for Spike to read her. Hell, half the time he knew what was going on with her when she herself didn’t know.
“Spike, this can’t be anything more,” Buffy added, feeling the need to clarify that. “There’s too much going on. Let’s just do what we need to keep Dawn and like you said, we’ll let the rest work itself out.”
“But you’re not going to deny this?” he prompted. “That there’s something between us?”
“I think that would be kind of pointless now. You okay with simple?” she asked.
For a moment, it seemed like Spike was going to start arguing but nodded his head instead.
“I’m good with my crumbs.”
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Spike had reluctantly let her go and they continued their tasks from earlier, sharing light banter as they worked. It was early afternoon by the time they’d managed to make the basement decent and habitable.
“Done! I almost thought it was going to be impossible,” Buffy commented, sitting down heavily on the cot they’d just finished setting up, as she surveyed the basement.
“Nothing’s impossible, Slayer. You should know that by now,” Spike added, sitting down beside her and turning to look at her. “What next?”
“Well, you need a shower,” she said, scrunching her nose at him. “You look like a dirt magnet.”
Spike’s jeans had mostly survived but his body and hair had a fine layer of dust and dirt.
“You gonna join me?” he asked leering at her.
Buffy gave him a ‘get real’ look and Spike pouted at her.
“Could make you all dirty so you need a shower,” he murmured, leaning in close to her. She pushed him back before anything could start and pointed her finger at the stairs, all the while shoving back the imagery his words brought to mind.
“You, shower, now,” she ordered.
“Yes, wife of mine,” Spike purred at her, before slinking towards the stairs and disappearing up them.
Buffy had a feeling she was going to like hearing those words from his mouth far too much, and that set a tendril of fear in her belly. Despite their earlier talk, she couldn’t allow herself to get too attached to Spike. He’d already wormed his way into her life, and it was farther in than she’d like. They’d do their pretending and it would stop there, or at least she hoped. Where Spike was concerned, nothing ever turned out as planned.
Shaking off her thoughts, Buffy grabbed Spike’s now clean shirt from the laundry and brought it upstairs with her. She set it on the counter before making herself a quick lunch. Sitting down at the counter, she nibbled on her sandwich as she flipped through the papers Spike had brought again. It still amazed her that he’d gotten a hold of them; she just wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to help, or if he wanted to tie himself to her. While she could admit she trusted him, she was still sketchy about his motives sometimes.
Staring down at the papers, she couldn’t stop the flip-flop of her stomach. Was she really going to go through with this? Sign the papers and be Spike’s wife? It excited and terrified her at the same time. It was something that she’d never thought she’d be doing, ever. Slayers were born with a short expiration date and she’d only narrowly missed it the first time around. Her short life expectancy also pushed her towards the fake marriage. This might be the only time she ever got to do it. Albeit it was to Spike, but it almost seemed fitting.
Overhead, she heard the shower turn off and it wasn’t long before she heard the clunking of his boots walking towards the kitchen. Again, she wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted her when she turned around.
Spike walked into the kitchen, pants half done up, rubbing a towel through his damp curls. A few droplets of water still glistened on his bare chest, making their way down the lines of his body.
I definitely could get use to this, she thought with a dreamy sigh.
No! You can’t get attached! Just use him and lose him, her slayer side interjected.
“Slayer, you’re starting to make me think I’m losin’ my charm,” Spike said, breaking her from her thoughts, turning to see him already across the room.
“You? Have charm?” she shot back, trying to cover up her spacing out.
“You wound me, pet,” Spike said, pressing a hand to his chest as he suppressed a smirk.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now put some clothes on.” She tossed the shirt at him, which he caught, his reflexes making it look easy.
“What, you don’t like me naked?”
“Will you just put your clothes on?” Buffy said, evading his question.
“Buggin’ you that much?” he asked, leaning back against the counter with a smirk.
“No,” she lied, only daring a quick glance at him. “But what if someone shows up? What you going to do then?”
“Give them a good show.”
“Ugh! What am I going to do with you?” Buffy muttered, as she buried her face in her hands, resisting the urge to look at Spike. Looking at him would only encourage him and make her want to do evil, wicked things.
“I can tell you what you could do,” Spike purred at her, pushing away from the counter towards her.
“Spike, could you focus for like, two seconds? We have important stuff to worry about,” Buffy reminded, motioning down at the papers.
“Fine, spoil my fun,” he grumbled as he did up his pants and slipped the shirt on.
“Fun will come later. Right now we’ve got to deal with this,” she said, frowning down at the aforementioned papers.
“You havin’ second thoughts?” he asked, brows drawn together.
“No, not exactly. I know we have to do this for Dawn. I just… This isn’t something I thought I’d ever be doing, you know? Slayer and all. It’s just… I don’t know,” she finished lamely.
“Well, let’s get a move on then,” Spike said, a pen magically appearing in his hands, scribbling his signature across a line.
Buffy gawked for moment at how nonchalantly Spike had signed the paper, like it wasn’t a big deal. Well, if it was so easy for him to do it, she could do it too. She snagged the pen as soon as he was done, signing the line across from Spike’s signature.
It was funny, she expected to feel different and all she felt was annoyed at the smug look on Spike’s face. He had known what he was doing all along.
“Jerk,” she mumbled.
“What was that Mrs. Thornhill?” he questioned with a smirk.
“Mrs. Thornhill?” Buffy repeated, looking confused.
“Always did say you were the bloody thorn in my side,” Spike teased.
“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“Oh come on, that would take all the fun out of it.”
“Whatever. I’m leaving,” she said. It was no use getting upset. Signing the papers was something she had to do anyways.
“Leaving?” he asked, humor gone.
“Uh, yeah. I have to go to the Magic Box. Giles said something about new books and Dawn’s meeting me there.”
“I’ll meet you there,” Spike said, grabbing the papers as he walked towards the living room.
“Spike, you do remember it’s the middle of the day?” Buffy asked as she followed after him. “Kind of a flammable time for you.”
“That’s why I’ll take the sewers,” he explained while swinging on his duster, the papers already safely tucked inside.
“All right, but if you show up smelling gross, I’m sending you right back,” Buffy warned, picking up a blanket off the couch and handing it to him.
“Ta, pet. Twenty bucks says I beat you there,” he teased, pecking her on the cheek before opening the door and running out, blanket pulled over himself.
“Buffy Thornhill?” Buffy wonder aloud as she grabbed her keys and left the house, never noticing the blinking light on the answering machine.
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The bell jingled overhead as Buffy opened the door to the Magic Box. Everyone was already assembled at the table, flipping through books, looking up as she entered.
“Hey,” she greeted. “How goes the research?”
Buffy’s question was saved from answering by the stock room’s door opening.
“Bollocks. You beat me,” Spike swore as he closed the door and entered the room.
“And now you owe me twenty bucks,” Buffy shot back.
“Never shook on it. Owe you nothing.”
“What’s dead boy junior doing here?” Xander asked, standing up, breaking Spike and Buffy out of their banter.
“Yes, one would wonder what exactly you are doing here, Spike?” Giles said, also standing up.
“I’m with--” Spike started but was cut off by Buffy.
“He was checking out the demon haunts for me. I told him to meet me here,” she added quickly, and turned to address Spike. “So you find anything?”
“No, nothing,” Spike answered with a glare.
“You know? You’re kind of pathetic Spike,” Xander commented. “Running errands for Buffy. Doing anything you can to be near her. When are you going to wake up and realize that she wants nothing to do with you?”
“Well, Mrs. Thornhill, do you always allow your friends to talk so rudely to your husband?” a voice questioned. Everyone had been so focused on the argument that they missed the sound of the bell from the door.
Buffy’s eyes were wide as she turned to look towards the person who had spoken and found a short, stocky woman standing next to Dawn. Her hair was done up in a tight bun, glasses perched on her nose as she held her purse and clipboard close to her body.
Dawn gave a sheepish wave and smile.
“Mrs. Thornhill? Husband?” Xander repeated breathlessly, his face looking pale, those around him echoing his sentiments.
“Yes,” the woman answered. “Are you to tell me that Mrs. Thornhill,” she motioned towards Buffy, “hasn’t told you of her marriage yet?”
Her question was met with a thudding answer as Xander hit the floor.
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tbc…