Chapter 21 - Narration
Buffy woke up the next morning with a fixed smile. Absolutely nothing was going to be able to destroy her good mood. The covers were thrown back as she slid to the floor and padded toward the bathroom. First a shower, then get dressed, followed by a quick breakfast. Then it was off to school.
She had a boy to see.
The moment her Mom’s SUV pulled into the parking lot at school, Buffy’s door was open and the eager teen was practically diving from it. A rushed “goodbye, mom,” was thrown over her shoulder as she jogged up the stairs at the front of the school and made her way inside. It was quieter than she had come to expect of a morning, but then, she was there a good thirty minutes earlier than she normally arrived.
It was Willow’s fault.
Buffy made her way to her locker and swiftly stowed her books, keeping only those she’d require for first period. She was almost to the quad when she finally spotted her friend, seated on the bench where they’d agreed to meet.
The redhead lifted her gaze from her textbook; a bright and wide grin stretched across her face as she waved Buffy over with palpable excitement. “You promised details and I want to know everything.”
Willow patted the seat beside her and scooched over to make room for Buffy, which sent the blonde into giggles. Her enthusiasm was contagious.
“Well, you know about our date on Friday night, he drove me home and—”
“Were there smooches?! I bet there were smooches,” Willow babbled animatedly.
“Willow, are you going to let me tell you, or should I let you guess?” Buffy asked with a raised brow.
“Oh, I’ll be quiet, just talk faster.” Lifting her hand to her mouth, Willow made a zipping motion over her lips.
“Yes, there were smooches.”
Willow squealed delightedly before she repeated the zipping action.
“The next morning…”
…Buffy walked downstairs and into the kitchen. She was still on a high from her date with Spike at the Bronze the night before. In fact the smile had yet to move from her face. Happy, cheerful, positive; these words and more described Buffy’s mood.
Breakfast was shared with her mother, another reason for her to smile. Over the last few weeks, the opportunities to spend quality time with her mom had been minimal. It was nice to spend time with her, even if it was for just an hour. When Joyce left for work Buffy returned upstairs to shower and dress.
Today was going to be a quiet one, she’d made no plans to see her friends and her mom was going to be gone until dinnertime. Homework was waiting to be completed but she decided to save that for the evening. Maybe I could go for a walk, or go shopping, or…
The doorbell rang.
A confused frown made its way across Buffy’s face as she bounded down the steps two at a time. “Coming,” she called as she reached the door, twisting the knob and turning it quickly to open and reveal—
“Spike?” Buffy blinked in surprise.
“Oh, my god!” Willow gasped with enthusiasm. “He came and saw you the next day as well?”
Buffy nodded. “As I was saying, I hadn’t expected him to come over, so to see him on the doorstep was surprising, to say the least. If I’d known he was going to come over I would have dressed in something nicer than—”
“Hey, Buffy,” Spike smiled warmly. “Are you busy?”
Buffy shook her head and half stepped behind the door. She was wearing an old tracksuit, one of the ones she would throw on over her bathers after a training session. Not exactly her hottest outfit. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to come see my girl,” he answered honestly. He’d wanted to surprise her and judging by the bewildered expression on her face, he had. “Can I come in?”
“S-sure,” Buffy stuttered as she pulled the door wider. “I was just in the middle of some laundry. Let me get changed and I’ll be back in a minute?” Not waiting for an answer she disappeared up the stairs.
Buffy nodded. “Will, it was my oldest tracksuit.” She scrunched her nose up in disgust.
“I bet he didn’t even notice,” Willow replied matter-oh-factly, a smug grin making its way across her face.
A rose blush rose on Buffy’s cheeks. “He didn’t.”
When Buffy came downstairs a few minutes later, dressed in a pair of fitted jeans and black v-neck t-shirt she felt a lot more comfortable. But Spike was no longer in the foyer. “Spike?” she called out hesitantly.
“In ‘ere,” his voice called from the living room.
The partition doors had been pulled almost all the way closed, and the room was darkened. When Buffy walked through she saw that Spike had closed the curtains. On the coffee table lay an assortment of sugary lollies and candy, a couple cans of soda and bag of corn chips.
Spike himself was crouched in front of the TV unit to insert a DVD into the player.
“What is all this?” Buffy asked, pulling the doors closed behind her.
“I thought it might be nice to spend some time together, just the two of us.” Spike rose to his feet and walked over to Buffy. Taking her hand, he led her toward the sofa and they sat down. “Last night was fun, but I thought it would be nice if our second date was just the two of use. So stayin’ in and watchin’ movies it is.” He was pretty pleased with his logic.
“Date?” Buffy repeated.
“Aww!” Willow gushed.
“I know.” Buffy ducked her head, blushing.
“So what did he say?”
“Shh, and I’ll tell you.”
For the first time Spike’s smile faltered. He thought he’d covered everything. Spike knew Buffy liked watching movies, so bringing over DVD’s seemed like the perfect plan. This way there was no chance of bumping into people they knew so they wouldn’t be interrupted. Nothing would make Spike prouder than to let everyone in town known that Buffy was his girl. But he wanted to spend some time alone with her as well. Money was shelled out on snacks so they wouldn’t even have to get up to go to the kitchen. They could spend the next couple of hours in relative darkness, snuggled on the sofa. And he liked that idea.
It hadn’t even occurred to him that Buffy might not be so keen.
“Well… ah, yes. Date,” he answered sheepishly. “But only if you want it be. I could go, or…” he trailed off as he fidgeted beside her, before finally making move to stand. “I’m sorry, it’s just last night was great and—”
Buffy’s hand on Spike’s thigh stilled his movement and stopped his words. “Last night was great. And this is very sweet of you.” She smiled warmly, linking her fingers with his as she relaxed back against the cushions. “What movies did you bring?”
“Aww!” Willow squealed, repeating herself. “So you guys spent the day watching movies together?”
Buffy nodded. “We completely lost track of time.”
A mischievous grin spread across Willow’s face. “Huh. What movies did you watch and what was your favourite part of each? With details.”
The blush that rose on Buffy’s cheeks was all the response Willow needed. “I so knew it! You guys spent the whole time making out, didn’t you?”
“Not the… whole time,” Buffy mumbled.
“Go on. Lost track of time, then what?” Willow prodded.
The movie they had been ‘watching’ was well over, the title screen for the DVD going through the motions on the television, neither paying any attention whatsoever to the repeating sequence. Mouths fused together Buffy and Spike began a gentle exploration of the other’s skin. As their kisses became more heated, more adventurous did their wandering digits become. Somewhere around the exposition scene toward the end of the film the pair had shifted from their side-by-side seating. Currently they were lying on the sofa, Spike’s knees between Buffy’s legs, his weight gently pressing her into the plush cushions.
Buffy’s fingers twined in Spike’s hair, his caressed her face. When of their own volition his hands wandered down her neck, ghosted across her breasts, before settling on her exposed stomach, she made no attempt to hinder him. Shivers of delight mixed the stomach churning nervousness that came with first investigation of another’s flesh washed over Buffy. This felt right.
Nervous excitement filled Buffy as she began her own discovery. One hand held him to her, her fingers dancing across his back, while the other traced a slow path down his chest. With a flattened palm she mapped his pectorals, feelings his nipples harden beneath her touch. She continued further south. Touch feather light she traced over Spike’s defined abdominal muscles. A feline smile curled her lips, momentarily breaking their kiss, when she felt how they rippled and convulsed as she mapped his flesh. His body’s reaction to her attentions filled her with womanly pride.
The satisfied smirk left her face, her mouth dropping open in surprise when Spike’s warm hand pushed beneath her bra.
“Spike,” Buffy gasped, pressing her hands to his chest to stop him.
“We take this only as far as you want to,” Spike assured when he saw the flicker of panic in her eyes, his own expression gentle.
Buffy nodded slowly. Biting her bottom lip to settle the fluttering in the pit of her stomach, Buffy lowered her hands to the hem of his t-shirt, hooking her fingers around the bottom of it. With a timid little pull upward she hinted her desire for more freedom with his flesh.
Sensing her hesitancy Spike completed the task, lifting himself to his knees and removing the t-shirt with one fluid movement, throwing it carelessly over his shoulder.
It wasn’t like she’d never seen Spike shirtless before. In fact she’d seen him in next to nothing dozens of times thanks to swim training. But up close and personal like this, in a more intimate setting, it was liked seeing him for the first time.
Spike ducked his head at Buffy’s open appreciation. His reaction was surprising to himself. He wasn’t the sort of person who became shy around others when in a state of undress, partly because of swimming, mostly because of his general confidence with women. Normally he exuded confidence, or arrogance depending on who you spoke to. Something about how Buffy was looking at him caused the cockiness to retreat and shyness to appear. It’s because it’s Buffy, not just some girl.
Buffy’s gaze finally returned to Spike’s face. There was something in his eyes, something that was holding him back. Like he was waiting for her permission, or something. Funny how quickly roles can be reversed… she thought.
With a boldness that came from nowhere Buffy grabbed Spike’s hand and yanked him back on top of her.
Of course, Buffy was glossing over the details, only sharing the bare minimum of information, but it was obviously enough. Kissing, couch, wandering hands, buttons. Willow’s eyes were the size of saucers.
“Did he…did you…was there…buttons?” Willow was exerting incredible control to keep her jaw from dropping to the ground. She cleared her throat before attempting to make her question more…comprehensible. “Clothes were removed?”
At Buffy’s hurried nod Willow’s eyes grew to even larger, and seemingly impossible, proportions.
Buffy giggled. “Spike’s t-shirt.”
“Wow,” Willow breathed. “Gosh…just, wow!”
A dreamy sigh escaped Buffy’s lips as she nodded in agreement. Shirtless Spike was very wow.
“Did he…did he, you know?” Willow’s cheeks blushed as red as her hair. “Don’t make me ask.”
“No. Nothing else came off,” Buffy responded with an answering blush. “We were kinda interrupted.”
A squeak of horror left the redhead’s mouth. “Interrupted?”
Spike’s wandering fingers had found their way to top of Buffy’s jeans, and there they paused, toying with the button before releasing it with a pop. Thumb and index finger slowly dragged the zipper down, the noise loud and exaggerated in the quiet.
Emboldened by the feel of his fingers dancing low across her abdomen, Buffy mirrored Spike’s actions. She traced one finger down the length of his erection that strained against his jeans, before she reached for the zipper.
At that precise moment a car abruptly pulled into the driveway.
The startled pair practically dove apart when they realised their privacy was about to be interrupted. Spike immediately began searching for his missing t-shirt, while Buffy smoothed her hands over her hair in an attempt to tame the mess it had become.
A key turned in the lock.
Frantically, Buffy removed a hair band from her wrist and tied her hair up off her face.
The front door opened as Buffy and Spike gave each other’s appearances a once over. Spike re-buttoned Buffy’s jeans whilst she ran her fingers through his hair to tame the curls that had sprung forth.
“Hi, honey, I’m home.”