Buffy unlocked the front door and stepped inside, Spike paused briefly looking over his shoulder. He was not overly worried about the preppie guy from the Bronze following them, only a fool would. He was curious if Angel was lurking somewhere in the shadows. Spike would be waiting to see if the other man left or ended up staying the night if he were Angel.
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, flipping the light switch turning the exterior porch light off. "Joyce hasn't come home yet," he asked, realizing her car had not been in the driveway. Very observant, he chided himself.
"No, she is pulling an all-nighter at the gallery."
"You don't sound too thrilled."
"No, it's just that she spends so much time there."
"Like mother, like daughter, both taking their jobs seriously."
"I guess. So where have you been staying since you've been back?"
"Why? You want to come visit me?"
She shrugged. "I was just curious. I know you're not at the mansion and that factory looks like it's about to implode."
"That's where I have been staying. I hadn't really planned on staying in Sunnydale until the other night. I suppose I should look for something a little more stable."
"Yeah, you probably should if you're going to be here a while." She stood with her back against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest watching him. She was nervous, he could tell despite her efforts to mask it. She had seemed comfortable walking home with him, maybe it was hopeful thinking on his part but still.
He shed his leather jacket and hung it up before entering the living room and taking a seat on the couch, draping his arm over the back. "What's on your mind? Are you scared of me all of the sudden?"
"It would not exactly be a sudden thing, Spike. Tonight is the first night we have not tried to kill one another or threaten to do so."
"There are first times for everything. Why don't you come sit by me? I won't bite," a corner of his mouth curled up into a half smirk. "Not unless you want me to."
"I don't want you to bite me. Do you want to watch a movie or something?"
"Sure. What do you have?"
She walked to the TV stand and opened the cabinet where the videos were. "You choose while I make popcorn. You do like popcorn."
"How could I not?"
"I'm not sure that was sincere."
"Go make your popcorn, Buff. Is there anything you want to avoid?"
"Anything with Dracula in it might be best to avoid tonight."
He placed his hand over his heart. "Oh, you wound me. Vlad has nothing on me," he said with feigned hurt in his voice.
She smiled with a small laugh. He'd take that laugh, though he had hoped for more than that. "It's not necessarily that I think he does, I would just rather not give you any ideas."
Spike followed her into the kitchen, his shoulder resting against the archway frame. He folded his arms over his chest as he watched her get the things necessary to pop popcorn. "The ideas are already there, love, you could make me watch Bambi and they would still be there."
"I could tell you to leave."
"You could, but you don't want to or you would have bid me good night at the front door. Instead, you've invited me to join you for some telly and popcorn."
"I have, haven't I?" Uh oh, he thought, he had made her realize something maybe he should not have - yet.
"Yes, you have. Not that I'm complaining or anything. Sticking around here is more comfortable than the factory."
"Is that why you're here?"
"No. It wouldn't be that difficult to find another place, I just haven't looked real hard. A lot sort of depended on tonight. If you tried to stake me before the evening was done I probably would be leaving Sunnydale real soon."
"And since I have not staked you?"
"Well, I guess I have no plans on leaving again." He took a few steps to stand across from her, the island in the middle of the kitchen separating them. "You know I saw you."
"You saw me?"
"I saw you in LA during the summer, working at some two-bit diner."
"You didn't come in there, I would have remembered seeing you."
"No, I knew you were hiding and didn't want you thinking you needed to run again." Even understanding whatever his feelings for her were less then than he did now, he knew that the Slayer as a run away was not what the world needed. As odd as it sounded, he wanted her doing her job. "I didn't tell anybody I saw you neither I'll have you know. Not even Dru."
She tilted her head slightly as if contemplating his words, probably deciding whether or not she believed him. Hell, he would not believe himself either and she did not know him well. Spike had never made it a big secret that he was out for Spike and screw anything that tried to get in the way of that. But her hiding in LA hadn't gotten in the way of much of anything, aside from Dru.
It was then that the talking in his sleep had started, or so Dru said. He reasoned that it was better to talk about another woman in his sleep than to call out another woman's name during sex. Dru had not agreed.
"Thanks. That was probably the nicest thing you could have done for me. I don't know where I might have ended up had I left LA. I lucked into a decent job, making a decent wage and found a decent apartment. My existence was just that, decent, but it could have been a lot worse."
"You're right, it could have. I wouldn't have let it happen, though. I watched you for a while to make sure you were all right. I would have done something to help you out had I seen you were in trouble."
"Now that I don't know that I believe."
"I wouldn't have given you the chance to stake me or anything, no, but I might have seen to it that something came your way to help you out. A better job or what have you. Believe it or not, I do know people here and there. I'm not a complete waste of space."
"I don't know that I ever claimed you were that."
"All right then. I mean you weren't there slaying, so it wouldn't have been contradictory to help you."
"You know there were times I think I would have welcomed it had you come into the diner and talked to me. I was pretty lonely sometimes. It's hard to make friends when you are living a complete lie."
"Yeah it can be that." He walked to the other side of the island and stood behind her. His arms encircled her waist, drawing her against him as he leaned against a counter. She placed her hands over his resting at her abdomen. He rested his chin at her shoulder, starting when he felt one of her hands touch his face and his hair.
"Ironically, if you had shown yourself to me, I would not be talking to you right now. I would have been mad at you, thought you were following me or something. But God there were times I longed for someone to tell me Mom and my friends were all right."
He was quiet for a moment. He had no reason to be, the answer to that was fairly obvious, but he wanted to stand there for a moment and just enjoy her. "Well, part of that I wager is that you were running away not only from them, but who you were. I mean, had you left them behind and continued slaying I think you would have been all right, but you were running away from your calling. You were chosen to do it, and though I've taken down two slayers in the past and both were challenges I never doubted I would win with the two of them. Two years ago I felt the same confidence with you, but I've watched you since I've been back and you've grown, your strength, your abilities, your speed."
"You sound impressed, Spike."
He tilted his head slightly, taking advantage of their closeness, of her touching him and kissed the side of her neck before finding her ear. "Well, don't let it go to your head or anything."
She laughed and turned to face him. "We wouldn't want that. It might compete with the size of yours."
"Now she insults me?"
"I think I've changed my mind about the movie and popcorn."
Spike knew his disappointment was clearly written on his face. Bloody hell, she was telling him to leave. He had pushed too hard, too fast kissing her neck and ear like that. He knew better and closed his eyes, scolding himself. "All right then."
She stepped out of his embrace and left the kitchen, Spike following her with his eyes. He really did not want to follow her as it would mean saying good night, good bye and chances were she would be back patrolling with Angel tomorrow. He could not very well stand in her kitchen all night either, so he walked into the hallway and was surprised when she was standing on the stairs leading to the second floor.
"I was beginning to think you were going to stand in there all night."
"I thought you were telling me to leave," he said a little sheepishly. Innocents were not his specialty, ironic perhaps given he was that himself once upon a time when Dru found him.
"No, but if you'd rather leave…"
"Uh no, I don't think so. Your mom?"
"She will be gone all night and might come home in the morning to change clothes, but," she said and looked past him out the window above the front door he realized, "it is not morning yet."
He joined her on the stairs, hell he did not need to be asked twice. "You're sure about this? I really don't mind watching television with you."
He followed her upstairs and to her bedroom, closing the door as he entered. Her closet and the blinds were closed, she must have closed them earlier as she changed. She slept with the blinds open he knew because he had walked by a time or two the past couple of nights. "I don't know that I ever told you that you look nice in the dress."
"I was wondering if maybe you regretted the choice, but thank you for saying so." She flipped some hair behind her.
She must have read his mind because she struck a match as he flipped the light switch and lit a candle. "Bring men up here often, Miss Summers?"
Her head was bowed, her hair framing her face as she lit the candle. The candle burning, she looked into his eyes without raising her head, pursed her lips and blew out the match. He had seen hundreds if not thousands of matches blown out over the years, but hell if she did not make him feel like it was his first time seeing it done. The gleam in her eyes did not help he supposed. He had not seen that look in a woman's eyes in a very long time, not even Dru bothered to look at him that way anymore. He stared at her, his eyes focused on her lips and then she smiled at him, dropping the match onto the saucer the candle was set on. "No, I like candles and I have a friend who is practicing to be a witch. Sometimes she practices here."
He swallowed hard, once, twice, three times before he felt he would be able to speak again and sound like a man, not a school boy who was going through the change. "I'd forgotten that."
"You don't look so sure you want to be here anymore, Spike. Was this some sort of test?"
He closed the distance between them, his mouth closing over hers as soon as he drew her to him. His hands cupped her shoulders, thumbs grazing her collarbone. It was all he dared do at the moment, not wanting to stop touching or kissing her. He did not want to give her the chance to think about Angel, to change her mind about being here now with him. He wasn't fool enough to think he would get another opportunity if she changed her mind now.
He expected her to fight or not respond as she dwelled on Angel. Instead, she returned his kiss hesitantly but with fervor. Her shoulders rotated underneath his grasp and he took the hint, sliding his hands to her waist. Her hands found his upper arms and felt warm as they grasped him. Her lips welcomed him with such innocence yet fevered demand that Spike reveled in them, in her.
He cursed himself and his stupidity for suggesting she wear a dress. If he wanted to touch her it was going to be all with the dress off or nothing with the dress on. He did not want the dress on, he wanted to be able to touch all of her. A hand dropped from around her waist to her hip, sliding lower along her thigh until his fingertips met the hem of the dress.
He paused for a moment, long enough to give her the chance to object before he began sliding his hand up, the hem of the dress with it. He was probably going too fast, but for Spike it was not fast enough. He wanted her, had to have her there and then, could not wait. He had been good and kind even gentlemanly all damned night, but the feel of her nylon clad thigh beneath his fingertips snapped his control. He was no longer the gentleman he once was over a hundred years ago. The Slayer knew this yet was here with him and if the rapid beating of her pulse was any indication she liked it.
The bed was not too far away, but her nightstand was closer. He was strong, she was stronger a fact that was an aphrodisiac in itself. He could not hurt her, or at least no more than she wanted him to. Both hands slid around the hem of her dress to her thighs as he lifted her, feeling bare skin instead of more nylons as they slid up toward her bottom. "You wore stockings," he said gruffly against her ear before kissing it.
She nodded in acknowledgement as she tilted her head back, giving him clear access to her neck and throat. A trusting soul she was, and as tempting as it might be to take out his third Slayer the need to be inside of her outweighed any need to taste her.
She wrapped her legs around him, thinking perhaps he was going to take her to the bed instead of setting her on the nightstand. Distantly he heard the various items on it get pushed aside, some falling to the floor and breaking from the impact but he was too focused on the pulse point in her neck. The temptation was strong and he made it worse by grazing the point with his teeth. It would be so easy to change, it would be over in a second and he would have the blood of a Slayer coursing through his body.
The fact that on some level she had to trust him to present him with such temptation stopped him from doing more than feast on that thrumming pulse point with his lips and tongue. His hands slid along her outer thighs, feeling for the clasps of the garter only to find none. The stockings were held up by elastic, so Spike left them in place. The material was smooth and silky to the touch. He could just imagine what it would feel like when her legs were wrapped around his hips with his jeans gone.
His hands at either hip, he found the hem of the dress once again and began pushing it up. His thumbs grazed her abdomen and ribs as the dress made its ascent along the length of her torso. He made no effort to hide the fact he was touching every inch of her he could. For tonight at least she had granted him the right to.
The dress removed and tossed to the side his mouth found hers, her tongue searching for his. A hand dropped to a breast, cupping it, stroking its peak with his thumb, caressing the swell and underside. His other hand found her hip and drew her closer to the edge of the nightstand, if he had shed his jeans he would be inside of her now.
Spike broke the kiss when he felt her breasts press against his chest. He smiled slightly, there was no question in his mind his eyes reflected both his desire and need for her. Those feelings were reflected in hers as well, desire for him and no one else. He drew back as she reached behind her and a few seconds later tossed her bra aside. "I was getting around to that," he murmured against her ear before he bit her lobe.
"Not fast enough."
"I was trying to go slow for you, love."
She began working his shirt off, her hands running along his shoulders, chest and abdomen once she'd removed it altogether. "Screw slow. We have all night."
"We do at that," he said before drawing a peak into his mouth. He toyed with it, teased it and tasted it until it had grown hard and erect in his mouth. His hand at her hip moved to the front of his jeans, working the button and zipper. She surprised him by placing her hands at the waist of his jeans and pushing them down just past his hips.
Her hand reached for him, encircled him, stroked him and grazed the tip with her thumb. He almost bit her breast when he felt her touch him and was aware that if he put off joining with her he would change. His control was beyond reproach, but he liked tasting, biting, marking when he had sex and sex with the Slayer, with Buffy, would be no different.
He drew back from her breast, a large and dark mark already there from where he had been sucking while she was heightening his arousal by stroking him. Both hands went to her thighs, his thumb pushing aside the satin strip of her panties that acted as his only barrier now.
Her hands slid to his shoulders, her head fell back and her eyes fell closed in anticipation of what was to come next. "Look at me, Buffy," he whispered. Her attention gotten, her eyes open and looking at him he entered her. He held back some, mindful of her inexperience, but there was little gentle or hesitant in his thrust. He could not be sure if the noise he heard upon his entry came from him or her, perhaps both, but the look in her eyes told him she liked where he was and what he was doing.
Distantly, he was aware of her nails biting into his skin though he was not entirely sure she was. She reacted to him, touched him as if she had been made to do this very act. He was not self-absorbed enough to believe it was for him she had been made to do this act with, but it was a nice thought. The hesitancy and shyness she exhibited moments ago were gone, the barriers she held in place were gone and there was just them, their bodies joined together. She took what he gave no matter how hard, how fast, how slow or how deep he moved inside of her and seemed to relish it the more he lost his own control. She said screw slow and while he would have liked to have impressed her a bit more with his prowess, he gave the lady what she had asked for.
The next thing Spike knew his hands were braced against the wall and he felt Buffy's mouth licking and biting his chest. He had a vague recollection of reaching his climax and knew that Buffy had reached hers. But just how long ago that had been he could not be sure. "Ow," he said with a low chuckle, one hand reaching for and cupping the back of her head. "Watch it, pet, not quite so hard."
"You weren't telling me to stop a minute ago."
"Yeah well, when a man blacks out for a few minutes it's reasonable to expect him not to say much of anything."
"Oh you said a lot."
"I did, did I?" Was she teasing him? Hopefully, he had not gotten off and then gone off and filled her head with flowery words. That was the last thing she needed to hear, at least from him.
She drew back, placing her hands on either side of his face and met his eyes. "You did. I think you wanted me to feed, but I can't do that, so I tried my best to do something. You seemed to like it."
He glanced down at his chest, red and marked from her nails, mouth and teeth. "I see that. I didn't," he drew away, pushing her hair away from her neck.
"No you didn't." She smiled almost wickedly, moved her hips reminding him he was still inside of her.
"Buff," he said in faux irritation. "Slayer."
"Yes," she said looking innocent, though her clenching and unclenching around him was driving him mad. She had to know what she was doing.
"Doing that thing with your thing. You know."
"You don't like it?"
He moved to kiss her, taking her lower lip in between his teeth and biting it lightly. "I did not say that, no. Maybe we should move to the bed about now, do you think? Then I can show you how much I like it."
"Really? So soon?"
He laughed loudly. "I might need some encouragement, love, but I get the feeling you know what to do."
Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com