Nervously, Buffy scanned the crowded café. It seemed like every table was full and she had been running a few minutes late. When Willow had called and asked her to come out for an impromptu dinner and some girl talk, Buffy had readily accepted, but the train hadn’t been running on schedule and she was afraid the other girl had already given up on her.
“Buffy! Over here!” The redhead waved from a table deep in a corner of the small restaurant. Relieved, Buffy crossed to her and slung her coat over the back of the chair before sitting down.
“Sorry I’m so late, Willow. One of the trains wasn’t running and it threw the whole schedule off…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Willow waved off her apologies. “I used to live in the ‘burbs, too, so I know how it is. I’m just so glad you could come!”
“Me, too,” Buffy agreed. Although the two women had talked on the phone several times, they hadn’t been able to get together again since the concert. After briefly perusing the menus and giving her order to the somewhat impatient waiter, Buffy folded her hands on the table and looked at Willow expectantly.
“Soooo?” she asked. “How was your date with Oz?”
Willow immediately flushed, but a happy smile appeared on her lips. “It was so great, Buffy!” she squealed. “We went to this concert in the park, and sat out almost all night, just talking. It was so much fun! And we’re going out again next weekend!”
“That’s wonderful, Wil! I’m so happy for you!” Buffy smiled in genuine pleasure for her new friend.
“And it’s all thanks to you, Buffy.” Willow replied, turning a little serious.
“Don’t be silly,” the blonde tried to shrug off the credit.
“No, really,” insisted Willow. “If you hadn’t given me that ticket, and invited me backstage, and introduced me to Spike…” She paused, seeing Buffy’s green eyes cloud over briefly.“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Buffy insisted. The food arrived just then, tossed a little too hurriedly onto the table by the same impatient waiter. Buffy and Willow exchanged small smiles and eye rolls before unrolling their silverware, and folding napkins in their laps. The busywork of preparing to eat had stalled the conversation momentarily, but Willow was determined to pick it back up.
“Come on, Buffy. I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I can tell that something is wrong. Did you and Spike have a fight?” she asked curiously.
“No,” Buffy hurriedly replied. “Nothing like that,” she hesitated.
Willow paused a moment, thinking carefully about how to pursue this line of questioning. You would have had to be blind the other night not to see the sparks flying between Buffy and Spike, but Willow knew that Buffy was married. Although, from the little hints that Oz had unknowingly dropped, it wasn’t necessarily a happy union.
“Did you have a fight with Angel?” Willow asked cautiously.
“No,” Buffy replied again with a sigh. “He’s not home enough to fight with,” she admitted. “For a few days, right after Spike came over for dinner, Angel was coming home earlier and we were spending more time together, but then….” She shrugged helplessly.
“Have you seen Spike, lately?”“About a week ago, but just for a few minutes. I was in the city to pick up something from another gallery, and I stopped by the studio.” Buffy paused, remembering the brief conversation they had had in the hallway outside the recording studio, reclining slightly against the wall, Spike’s elbow casually leaning against the same wall near her head. They had been so close; his firm, sculpted chest just millimeters away from her breasts, causing her nipples to harden even though they weren’t actually touching.
Willow was surprised at the sudden light in Buffy’s eyes, and equally startled when it dimmed. “What?” she asked.
“Well,” Buffy hesitated. “I haven’t seen him since then. Or even really talked to him. Just a few emails. I think he’s avoiding me,” she confessed in a rush.
“Why would he be avoiding you? You two are friends…” Willow trailed off again. She seemed to be doing that a lot in this conversation. Suddenly, she resolved to bite the bullet and just ask Buffy. Whatever the answer, it seemed that her new friend really needed to talk, whether she realized it or not.
“Buffy,” she asked firmly. “Do you have feelings for Spike?”
Buffy’s face seemed to collapse in on itself, and tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes. “I’m not sure. I think I might,” she admitted in a miserable whisper.
Saddened by her friend’s obvious distress, Willow nevertheless thought that she should continue the conversation, for Buffy’s own good.“Does he have feelings for you?”
Before she could even think it through, Buffy nodded. A little shocked at her own quick response, she realized that, although she had mostly been caught up in her own emotions, she had no doubt that Spike had similar, if not stronger feelings for her. That annoying little voice in her head had been insisting the truth of this for weeks now.
“What are you going to do?” Willow asked, more gently now that everything was out in the open.
“I don’t know,” Buffy sighed softly, resting her head in her hands. “Every time I’m around him I just get so caught up in this feeling…I can’t really describe it. It’s like I’m just, giddy, and,” she paused, searching for the best words. “And I can’t seem to control my body; I just want to be close to him. We haven’t actually done anything,” she hurried to assure her, heading off Willow’s next question. “And I feel, just, happy,” she finished very softly.
“Oh, Buffy,” Willow’s face crinkled in concern for the sadness and uncertainty radiating off of her friend. “I know it’s hard, but you could, you know,” she tried to get her thoughts in order to suggest what, to her, seemed the only solution. “You could leave Angel.”
Buffy looked up, truly shocked. Somehow, despite what she finally admitted to feeling for Spike, she had never imagined actually being free to be with him. “No,” she gasped. “I couldn’t!”
“But, Buffy-”
“I couldn’t,” Buffy repeated, gently cutting her friend off. “Willow, my dad left my mom for another woman. His secretary, if you can believe the clicheness of that,” she sighed, running her hands worriedly through her hair, trying to make her understand. “She was devastated. I don’t ever, ever want to hurt anyone that way.”
“Oh, Buffy,” Willow said again, helplessly. There didn’t seem to be much more to say.
With a determined face, Buffy wiped her eyes and managed a smile. “I just have to work harder on my marriage, that’s all. And maybe Spike is right to avoid me. Maybe,” a small catch in her breath made her pause, but she resolutely continued on. “Maybe it’s for the best. And now,” she surveyed their barely touched, now cold dinner. “How about we go somewhere else? I know a coffee shop that has the best mochas…”
*******************************************************************
Both girls had purposefully kept the remainder of the evening on a much lighter note, so that when Buffy finally unlocked the front door of her house, she was still smiling. It had been such a lucky thing that Willow had come down the aisle at the concert when she had. They really complimented each other well, and had so much fun together! Buffy really thought the two of them were well on their way to becoming best friends.
Kicking her shoes off and making her way toward the stairs without turning on the light, Buffy almost tripped over a large black object lying on the floor. Angel’s briefcase. Her husband was actually home? She felt a finger of unease creep down her spine. She hadn’t bothered telling him she was going out with Willow. It hadn’t seemed likely that he would even notice she was gone.
“Angel?” She called softly, climbing the stairs and entering the bedroom, before stopping, shocked, just beyond the doorway.
He was lolling on the edge of the bed, still dressed in his suit and tie, and Buffy could smell the alcohol on his breath from several feet away. Angel didn’t like any sort of loss of control, and seldom drank more than one glass of wine with dinner.
“Buffy.” His speech was slightly slurred, but his dark eyes found her unerringly in the dark, tracing her figure with something that she hadn’t seen in awhile, something that looked like lust.
“I didn’t know you would be home,” she said nervously.
Lurching off the bed, he grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly to him. His tug threw her off balance, and she fell against him, struggling to breathe through the fumes that seemed to be soaked into his clothes.
“Were you with him?” he asked hoarsely.
“Him? You mean Spike. No. I went to dinner with Willow. Remember I told you about her?” Still drawing deep breaths to keep herself calm, Buffy was trying hard to stay pliant in her husband’s arms. He was running his hands over her body, forcibly palming her breasts, touching her in ways he hadn’t wanted to in months. This was right, she told herself. She should follow Spike’s advice and try to get Angel into bed for more than sleeping. Ignoring the growing nausea in her stomach, she forced her hands to move, and slipped one hand around Angel’s back and the other, with much trepidation, to his crotch. Feeling the hardness there almost made her want to jump back and run away, but she compelled herself to leave her hand on his cock and even apply a little pressure.
It wasn’t, of course, as if Buffy were a virgin. But it had been a long time, and Angel had always been very take charge, brusque, even, in bed. Now, though, it just felt wrong to be standing here like this, with him.
“Are you sure?” he asked, drawing her back to the present with a hard squeeze to her breast. “You weren’t with Spike? Weren’t out screwing him?” he spit the words out, the look in his eyes making her cower slightly.
“Ow, Angel, you’re hurting me…Of course, I’m sure,” she insisted gently. This was spinning out of control, and she needed to smooth this situation quickly. She had had no idea Angel was jealous of Spike. “I’m married to you,” she said placatingly. “Why would I be with him?”
"That’s right, we’re married. You’re my wife,” the words were still slurred, but his grip on her loosened, and he brought the hand that had been mauling her breasts up to her head instead to ruffle gently through her hair.
Buffy relaxed, until she felt the pressure on her head increase. She didn’t fight him, letting him push her down, forcing her to her knees, so the she was eye level with his belt. “Angel, what-“ she started to ask, until it suddenly sunk in what he wanted.
“Prove it to me, Buffy,” he rasped huskily, unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock. “Prove you’re still my wife.”
Okay, she could do this. Never mind the vicious queasiness in her stomach and that little voice in her head that was screaming for her to run. She had done this before, kind of. Never in this position, but…A few times before, Angel had laid on the bed and encouraged her to explore him with her tongue, but he always became impatient with her tentative efforts, and flipped them over to enter her before she could really get the hang of it. But she could do this. Willingly, she opened her mouth and licked the tip, unconsciously wrinkling her nose. He tasted of sweat and alcohol.
“Come on, Buffy,” Angel urged, his hands on her head compelling her forward.
Taking a deep breath, Buffy opened her mouth to take more of him in, but before she could settle to a rhythm, she found herself being held hard, and his cock suddenly forced down her throat.
“That’s it, Buffy. Be a good wife,” Angel crooned, as he aggressively fucked her mouth. Buffy choked, unable to breath and tried to pull away, but he held her head in an unbreakable grip. She gasped and spluttered and was unable to get a full breath no matter how she struggled. Finally, when her vision was starting to go black and she could no longer manage to fight, Angel came in her mouth, his cock shooting long spurts of semen down her throat. With a sigh, he withdrew and collapsed on the bed, leaving her gagging on the floor.
Buffy spit and retched onto the carpet, trying to clear her throat. From the bed, she could hear her husband snoring, already passed out from the combined effects of alcohol and satiation. Tears leaking out of her eyes, not even really aware that she was crying or what she was doing, Buffy pulled herself up and left the room, went downstairs, and grabbing her keys from the counter, ran from the house.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This was a hard chapter to write and I think it may be hard for some people to read. This is where the violence warning come in...