Trying to put her newfound epiphany firmly at the back of her mind, Buffy eagerly sat down to dinner with her companions. She just hoped that they didn’t notice the glaring neon sign that was no doubt flashing over her head, declaring her newly recognized feelings.
In spite of Buffy’s current apprehension over being in close quarters to Spike, the feast that Tara provided for dinner was avidly devoured by both of her guests. There was soup and steak and herby potatoes with a thick sauce. For dessert, she made a sumptuous apple brown betty topped with rich, velvety ice cream.
Despite all of the cookies they’d eaten earlier, the two blonds ate as if they’d been starved for weeks, not even pausing to talk as the demolished the spread. In fact, neither of them had eaten properly in a while and Tara’s home cooking was simultaneously fulfilling and comforting to them.
“You haven’t lost your touch when it comes to cooking, Glinda,” Spike complimented her, stuffing a chunk of dessert into his mouth.
“It really is good,” Buffy agreed. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything so yummy before. This really is one of the best things I’ve ever had in my mouth.”
“Ooh, I can think of a couple of things you’d like even more than this,” leered Spike causing Buffy’s cheeks to flush a deep pink.
“Will!” Tara chided him, immediately picking up on his meaning. “Leave the poor girl alone.”
“She doesn’t mind a bit of teasing, do you, love?” he asked Buffy.
The truth was that she kind of did mind. She minded because her damn panties were getting sticky at the thought of what he could put in her mouth that would be…better. She’d never done that before, always thinking of it as something gross, but doing it to Spike wouldn’t be anything less than…tasty.
“Do you cook, sweetie?” Tara inquired politely, hoping to change the subject. She could sense how uncomfortable the teenager was becoming.
“Uh that would be a no, with a capital never. Back home breakfast was charred toast and dinner was always takeout. I pretty much burn water so me and cooking…so not mixy.”
Tara frowned sympathetically. “You can always learn. I didn’t learn to cook until I was seventeen,” she told them, taking a sip of her water. “You should have seen some of my earliest disasters. But then I had to learn because I had to take care of my father and brother after I lost my mother.”
Both Spike and Buffy noticed the sadness on their host’s face when she mentioned her mother. It was an ache that they were all too familiar with.
“I’m sorry,” Buffy said sincerely, remembering how much it had hurt when her own mother died.
Shyly she met Buffy’s eyes. “It hurts to lose someone you love but it does get better you know,” she told her, sensing the younger girl’s sorrow. “It never goes away but in time you learn to live with it. Every day it gets a little easier.”
“I know. It’s been a long time since I lost my Mom but I still miss her,” Buffy admitted, absently fingering the end of her spoon. “Sometimes I go days without thinking about her and then I feel so guilty that I forgot.”
“She’d want you to go on living, honey.” Tara turned her eyes to Spike who was also playing uncomfortably with his spoon, unconsciously mirroring Buffy’s actions. “It’s always a mother’s wish that her children go on to be happy.”
The heaviness of the conversation was weighing on her but Buffy couldn’t help but pick up on the fact that Tara was trying to convey something to Spike…something that was beyond her current understanding. Her curiosity rose up but she didn’t want to intrude on their moment.
For a while the trio sat in silent solidarity. They’d all lost people in their lives. And the pain never truly dissipated. It stayed there simmering just under the surface waiting for an outlet. That was the nature of grief…it could be sidelined but never eradicated. With that thought in mind, they finished up their food in contemplative silence.
After dinner, Tara announced that she would make up the spare rooms for her guests before retiring to her bedroom for the night.
“It’s nothing grand or fancy,” she said shyly. “Just a couple beds for you, but I hope it’s enough.”
“It’s more than enough,” Buffy assured her. “You’ve been so sweet taking us in here.”
“It’s nice to have you here,” she assured Buffy shyly. “I’ve been alone for a while and sometimes I forget what it’s like to be around people.”
“With your cooking we might just move in,” Buffy chuckled, only half joking.
“See, you’ll never get rid of her now,” winked Spike, hugging Tara tightly once again. Their easy affection caused a reemergence of Buffy’s slight envy problem.
It wasn’t that she thought there was anything there other than a motherly love between Spike and Tara but she was jealous of their physical ease around each other. Buffy would have loved just to be able to sink into his arms and find comfort but something held her back. Or maybe everything held her back, she wasn’t quite sure.
“Okay, well goodnight,” Tara said, pulling out of Spike’s strong arms and leaving the two blonds alone in the living room.
“Night!” they chorused, staring after her.
“So you ready for your first lesson?” Spike asked Buffy, yanking her from her musings. He pushed the coffee table and couch out of the way, making some room for them to practice.
Buffy glanced up at him with a frown. “Huh? What lesson?”
“Promised I’d teach you to fight didn’t I?” Suddenly Spike looked shy and apprehensive, like a nerdy teenager asking the popular girl to prom. “If you’ve changed your mind about learning, that’s okay. I’ll just go…”
“No! I haven’t changed my mind at all. I’m totally non-changy. I was just surprised you wanted to teach me.”
“Course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I…umm…don’t know why not. I guess I just thought you were being nice or something.”
“Aha! There’s your first bloody mistake Summers. I’m not nice. Bloody evil is what I am.”
“Right, you’re totally the Big Bad.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
“I wish I could,” she sighed, breaking the light mood and darkening it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to let herself give into her desires if Rayne blood didn’t flow through Spike’s veins.
Sweeping away her seriousness he bounced on the balls of his feet. “Okay, come on, let’s show you some moves, eh?”
Painstakingly he demonstrated a range of fighting techniques and moves, forcing her to echo each one until she’d gotten it down pat. The words ‘uppercut’, ‘hook’, ‘cross’, and ‘jab’ bounced around her brain like a ping pong ball. He was not an easy teacher, settling for nothing less than perfection. In the hour they spent together she wanted to quit more than once but her pride wouldn’t let her.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, Spike decided she was more than ready for some hands-on training. “So, ready for a little sparring now then, lamb?”
Before she could agree, Spike was at her back pinning her against his chest. One hand banded around her chest, the other fixed over her abdomen.
“W-what are you doing?” she stuttered, breathless and flaccid in his hold.
“Attacking you, Little Red Riding Hood.” His hot breath tickled the prone shell of her ear. “Now if you don’t want to become a nummy treat for the Big Bad Wolf, you need to fight back.” His grip tightened on her, his thumb barely brushing the sensitive underside of her breasts. “Fight back, pet. Show me that fire. I know it’s in you. I’ve seen it. Show it to me!”
Instinctively, Buffy snapped herself out of her daze and reacted, slamming her elbow back into the soft flesh over Spike’s sternum. His little ‘oof’ spurred her on and she spun in his arms, pulling out of his tight hold.
When her eyes darted to his face, she realized he was grinning wildly. There was a sparkle in his gaze, urging her to continue.
“Throw a right hook at me, now,” he encouraged her.
With a manic smile spreading on her own face, she launched the punch at him. However, he easily sidestepped her. The blonde tried again, following it up with a left uppercut that also missed his chin by a whisker.
“C’mon now! You can do better than that, Princess,” he taunted her.
“Hell yeah, I can!”
She came forward with a flurry of punches this time. Even though he continued to avoid her, each time her aim got sharper and she honed in on her target. Keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the prize, she slammed her foot into his kneecap, momentarily stunning him, before driving her fist right into his nose.
The unexpected punch sent him off balance and he grabbed at her as he tumbled to the ground, yanking her on top of him. Their bodies were molded together on top of one of Tara’s ratty, old oriental rugs, their heat scalding each other through the thin layers of fabric that separated them.
Suddenly the air thickened and warmed.
“Oh my God!” she sighed, gazing down at him. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”
He reached up to touch his abused nose and shook his head. “Everything seems to still be attached.” The blond mustered a smile. “Caught me off guard, though. Good improvisation,” he choked out.
“Um, thanks.”
“Got a lot of potential in you, Slayer,” he complimented her.
“Slayer?”
“You wanted a nickname and now you’ve got one.”
“I was thinking of something…cute. Not something murder-y.”
“It suits you. You slay me, in more ways than one, kitten.” Treacle coated his voice in a way that hadn’t been present before.
And something seemed to be swelling between his legs that definitely hadn’t been there before, if the evidence pressing against her thigh was anything to go by. His hands came up to rest on her hips and it felt like an electric current deliciously searing her skin.
Continuing to straddle him despite the clear evidence of his arousal she placed her hand over his heart. “So I guess this means I won, right?” Her shallow breaths were making her lightheaded. Or was it his touch that was doing that?
He bucked up slightly pushing his cock farther into the warm cradle of her thighs. “I think you could say we both did.”
The young blonde swallowed at the contact. Never had she experienced anything so erotic and sensual. The way he felt underneath her, firm and hard, was making her pulsate with want and need. Instinctively she pushed down on his dick drawing a moan from him. Her libido screamed at her to lean down, kiss him, touch him, but another emotion was also pervading her senses.
Fear.
She didn’t even realize that the debilitating feeling was seeping into her consciousness until it gripped her whole being. This just couldn’t happen with Spike. Not now and maybe not ever. The idea of losing herself in him was too scary, especially when she felt like there were still so many things that she didn’t know about him…and even more so when she didn’t think that he returned her affections.
Okay, he was clearly attracted to her but the teenager didn’t want to be just a warm body to warm his bed. She didn’t believe that he returned her sentiments or that he ever could. She was just some girl that his father had requisitioned. Now that Ethan was out of the picture, he was stuck with her. Maybe he saw her as something more than a gangly teen…maybe she was a friend, or a little sister figure, or even a potential sex doll to him. But she didn’t think he would ever see her as someone who he could…love. Really, truly love.
Her insecurities bubbled over and as if she was suddenly awaking from a dream she blinked wildly and scrambled off of Spike. She climbed to her feet trying to hide to her frantic expression but he was so saturated with disappointment that he totally missed her trepidation.
He thought that he’d probably pushed her too far in allowing her to feel just how much she turned him on. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted this young woman more than he’d ever wanted anything else in his whole life.
“Alright there, pet?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light but failing miserably.
“Hmm? Oh yeah I’m peachy with a side of keen.” Her smile was just a little too bright, a little too forced. “It’s just getting late.”
Spike glanced at the wall clock. “It’s 9.30.”
“Right. But it’s been a long day and I’m totally beat.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, his expression softening. She did look tired and this seemed to be the day that would never end. “Glinda’s made up a bed for you down the hall.”
“Yeah, she said she was gonna do that.”
“Yeah, of course she did. Well it’s the first on your left.”
“I’ll tell her thanks tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Spike stuffed his hands into his back pockets.
“Okay.” Buffy played nervously with a stray strand of hair.
Well, this wasn’t awkward at all.
“So, I’ll see you in the morning, love,” he said to her.
There was an apprehensive expression on her face as he bid her goodnight. He couldn’t understand why. For the first time in several days she would finally be able to spend some time alone, go to sleep without the fear of being violated while she slumbered hanging over her. Surely she should be happy about that prospect.
Little did he realize that she was dreading being away from him for the night. Waking up in his arms the previous morning had been weird, but good weird. The kind of weird that she wanted to repeat. In truth she didn’t want to be alone tonight and that scared her. It scared her that she was needing him more and good God but it scared her that she was craving the taste of his lips.
“Goodnight, Spike,” she said softly, placing an impromptu kiss on his cheek. Internally she chastised herself for giving into her instincts even as she reveled in the way he skin had felt under her lips.
Before he could respond she turned her rapidly reddening face away and rushed into her bedroom.
Gaping after her, Spike placed his hand on the imprint of her kiss and a smile played on his lips.
“Goodnight, Slayer.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Another update. Enjoy. :)