Author's Note: Though this chapter is a little depressing at the beginning, I have to say it was one of my favorites to write. I like writing in Spike's POV, so every once in a while there might be a chapter specifically tailored to his views. Thanks for the continued support. I get all warm and fuzzy looking at the viewership. You guys are the BEST!
Young Girl
Chapter 7
The elevator chimed and Spike slowly entered dragging his feet as he did so.
What've I done, one side of his brain was saying, while the other calmly responded, It's for the best.
Spike softly rubbed his face in exasperation and sighed heavily as he pushed button 5. His hand lingered at the button as he took in the missing ring that now left a slight tan line. Gently pulling his hand away, he set it on his chest just above his heart.
I feel like I've lost half my soul, he internally grieved looking at his reflection in the gold metal elevator. God, I look like shit, he thought giving himself a once over, have my cheeks always been this hollow? Spike leaned closer to the reflection turning his face from side to side. I look like skin and bones.
As his depression set in, another chime from the elevator indicated he had made it to his floor. Leisurely, the doors slid open and he glumly made his way down the hall to his flat.
"Tonight," he mumbled to himself, "I shall drink myself stupid."
Feeling inside his pockets for his keys, he pulled out Dru's spare and stared at one of the many symbols of his love he had given her over the years. Spike twisted the key in his hand watching it glimmer in the hallway lights. She had never given him a key to her flat. Even when he had inquired about it, she'd dismissed his request and simply began rambling about stars on the ceiling. He would miss that the most. Sure the sex was brilliant, with her chains and whips and hot wax, but her bouts of crazy were always peppered with small tidbits of appreciation and tenderness. Caring for an artist, such as Dru, hadn't been easy, but in those moments, she had genuinely appreciated his presence. That had made loving her unconditionally so worth it.
Why Dru, he thought feeling tears start to form in his eyes, I know you never loved me, but was throwin' that back in my face so damn amusin' to you?
Finally, after struggling to put the key into the lock, he turned it and entered his flat. Feeling around the wall for the light switch presented itself as a problem, but what he saw when the lights flickered on made him even more distraught. His home was destroyed. Apparently, during her romp, Dru had decided to redecorate, if you could really call it that, with her boy toy leaving all of his space wrecked. Spike walked from room to room picking up torn cushions and other broken furniture. Glass shards, smashed sculptures, and other remnants sprawled across the floor leaving chaos in its wake.
How could she slash my father's art, he thought bending over to examine one of his late father's paintings that now bore a large cut down the front, it's all I had left of him.
As he looked at the painting in misery, he hoped one of his contacts, whom restored art for a living, could salvage it. Setting the painting down on his scratched dining room table, Spike observed that his bedroom door had been cracked open in the literal sense. He figured the boy had punched his way into the room in a fit of passion instead of merely turning the knob.
Fuckin' bright lad you brought back here Dru, he thought calculating repair costs in his head. It'd be easier to just buy a new flat. These bleedin' repair costs are gonna run me into the poor house.
He comprehended that repairs of this magnitude would probably take a long time to fix. Don't know if I can stay here another sodding minute, let alone several weeks.
Pushing his bedroom door open, he decided the damage done both to his heart and his personal property was so disparaging, that moving out would be the most plausible option, if he wanted to move on as quickly as possible. Rotating in a slow circle, he spotted some ripped pillows leaking out feathers all around his bed, red paint covering his new hardwood floors and windows, several used condoms hanging off his nightstand, and a trail of water seemingly coming from his master bathroom tub.
So they left the bath on as well, he thought hurriedly turning the faucet off.
Taking no time at all to barrel over in anguish, he promptly called his neighbors below praying the water hadn't leaked into their flat. Sighing in relief a few moments later, he was told it had only caused a slight discoloration to their living room. He caulked it up to burglars and apologized copiously for the damage, promising to fix it straightaway. Spike also took it upon himself to call in sick to school the next day. Buffy would hopefully be disappointed that he wasn't there, but he needed to drink himself into a stupor. The longer he waited, the quicker his sober mind would beg for Dru. He thought momentarily about groveling at her feet, but looking around his flat told him to think otherwise.
Now that he'd absorbed Dru's new renovations, Spike wandered over to his locked liquor cabinet and hoped she hadn't figured out the pin code. He only kept his favorite most expensive liquor hidden away for celebrations.
Hell with it, he thought contemplating whether he should go out and buy beer or open his expensive stash.
Bending down, he felt that the keys were sticky, but went ahead and typed his code in anyway. Apparently, she had tried to break in, but with no luck.
"Knew she'd never guess my birthday," he said aloud hurt by the realization, "probably doesn't even know it."
He examined the vault and grabbed his Macallan 21 Year Old Scotch with a grin. Though he presumed it could sell for around $250, this was one of those precious times that called for the good stuff.
"If I'm gonna drink till I drop, might as well drink the good stuff," he casually said to himself.
He quickly undid the top and took several large swigs before comfortably sitting in his recliner chair. Reaching down to grab the handle, he disappointedly found that it was cut off, completely ruining its main function.
"Are you bloody kickin' me," he said pouring the scotch into a shot glass. "My favorite fuckin' chair destroyed. Thanks princess," he laughed darkly, inhaling the shot.
Gazing up, he noted that his television was scratched, but nothing dire had happened to it. He smiled and grabbed the remote.
Maybe not all's lost, he hoped glaring at the television.
"Just gonna catch up on some Passions, then I'll be in better spirits," he mumbled uncharacteristically optimistic. Scrolling through his list of recorded programs, he realized Dru had only kept her shows. Spike stared in disbelief at the screen boiling at his find. Standing curtly, he chucked his remote at the wall, watching as it broke into several pieces.
"What am I gonna do now!" Spike shouted at the screen in anger. "Timmy's down the bloody well and. . .and. . .what if he gets found and I fuckin' missed it!"
Inhaling deeply, Spike grabbed his bottle and melted back into his chair.
Spike flinched awake to the sound of water splashing and assumed it was coming from his master bath. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he stood and tiptoed to the shut door wondering who could have come into his flat uninvited.
Knocking lightly he said, "Dru, luv, that you?"
When he received no answer, he jerked the handle slightly allowing it to creak open. A gust of hot steam poured out and enveloped him, lightly curling his hair from the humidity.
"Who the bloody hell is bathing in my tub?" He yelled with enthusiasm trying to figure out whose outline he was seeing.
"Just me," said the woman beckoning him to walk over with her manicured finger. "I was drenched from the rain and didn't think you'd mind if I just popped in for a quick dip while you were sleeping."
Allowing his vision to adjust, he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Buffy was the culprit. Spike's mouth fell open from her boldness, and he slowly edged his way closer to the water making sure to keep his eyes plastered on the ceiling instead of her naked form. Though he couldn't see anything because of the bubbles, he didn't need to "see" her in order to get aroused. Her personality and actions did that all on their own. "You don't mind do you?" said Buffy innocently after Spike hadn't said anything.
"No, pet, I don't mind, but it's a bit inappropriate don't you think," chocked out Spike still clearly in shock. "How'd you know I lived here?" He asked trying to figure that out for himself.
"You gave me your address, remember?" said Buffy completely sincere. "You told me if I was nervous sleeping at my house alone I could come over."
He couldn't remember telling her that, but she didn't seem like a liar, so if she said he offered, he probably did and forgot. "Sorry, pet, I must have said it and just forgot." Feeling confident, Spike said with a leer, "'fraid of the dark are you?" He still kept his eyes on the ceiling, but his voice was less squeaky and more pronounced.
Hearing Buffy clear her throat, Spike looked down reflexively. Her hair was clipped in a top knot and her arms were lazily draped over the side of the bubbly tub. She had taken off her makeup and glasses and her bare face was stunning to him. His eyes traveled down her body noticing two pedicured feet dangling over the edge of the tub crossed and gently bobbing up and down. He gawked as he took in her toned legs and petite frame just barely covered by vanilla scented bubbles.
"I was afraid you didn't want me," she whispered looking up at Spike with a slight pout forming on her lips. Unconsciously, Spike's legs brought him even closer to the golden goddess occupying his tub.
This is wrong, thought Spike now completely mesmerized by her pouty lower lip, Oh, pouty. . .look at that lip.. gonna get it.. gonna get it. He stopped brusquely and caught himself before he jeopardized his career. There's nothin' 'bout this exchange that elicits "friendly" behavior. THINK SPIKE! I'd lose my fuckin' job if anyone found out. But. . .but. . ., his other thought said in disagreement, she's so beautiful! They'd never find out.
Buffy watched Spike's internal struggles play across his face. Giggling and waving him over, she said seductively, "Care to join me?"
Picking up on her tone, he rasped out, "Buffy, I don't think that's a good idea."
Ignoring his rejection, Buffy calmly met his eyes and said, "Bend down could you?"
Without realizing it, Spike started to comply with her request. Kneeling down in front of the tub, while keeping his eyes glued to Buffy's, Spike watched as her hands gracefully loosened his tie.
Holding it in her pruned fingers and stretching it faintly, she observed, "Quite strong don't cha think? Could make one hell of a blindfold. . .or restraint for that matter."
Letting out the breath he had been holding, he studied her facial features with care, relishing in every frown, smile, and wrinkle of her brow. Entranced, Spike felt Buffy's light touch as she unbuttoned his shirt. He tenderly grabbed her hands, stopping her on his third button, and whispered, "Luv, you're playin' with fire." She silently smirked in acknowledgement while loosening his grip to continue.
"Have you ever thought maybe you're the one playing with fire?" she said gracefully gliding his dress shirt off his body in one swift motion. "Thought you'd look edible under there," she commented, grinning in his direction while tracing a finger down his abs. "Wonder what else is edible?" she questioned, letting her gaze travel down to Spike's bulge.
She giggled as his breath hitched and quickened. Feeling mischievous, Spike reached out to glide his fingers down Buffy's shoulder and she shuttered in response. Batting his hand away with a slap, she playfully scowled and said in a breathy voice, "Not your turn yet."
He pulled his hand back and Buffy's face brightened from a blush. She had power over him. Not just physically, but also mentally. Dru had been the powerful one in their relationship, but this was different. The caresses and the way Buffy spoke to him were sweet and playful, which he wasn't used to at all. He didn't know how he should react to her cute nature. Dru would have already tied him up and forcibly jerked him into submission. This, her gentleness, was new to him, and he found himself thoroughly enjoying her company. He didn't know how she did it, but her personality perfectly balanced a sweet and sexy woman. Not too rough or domineering, but also sassy and seductive. So many facets that he wanted to explore.
"Spike," said Buffy grabbing his face and touching his cheek with her thumb, "you still here?"
Yanked from his daydream, he put his hand over hers. "I'm here, pet. Just speechless is all."
"I like the sound of that," she said turning bashfully away from him to cover her blush that had now spread to her neck. "You make me so nervous," she admitted after a moment.
Mistaking her nervousness for fear, he stood planning to retreat to the living room when he sensed her hand on his belt buckle. She dragged him back to the side of the tub and said coyly, "Where'd you think you're going?"
"I don't want to force myself on you," he said in a disappointed tone.
Lingering for a moment, Buffy began unbuckling his pants leisurely. "Spike, look at me," she said pulling the belt off. He lowered his head in apprehension waiting for her to finish her thought. "I'm not nervous of you, I'm nervous because of you. I can't look at you without wanting to rip your clothes off. It's daunting, but at the same time, you make me feel desirable."
Opening and closing his mouth like a fish, he stood in complete silent. "I want you in here with me," said Buffy trying to sound as assertive as possible. Deciding she didn't need to wait for his reply, Buffy unbuttoned his pants and began struggling to pull them down. Again, Spike's hand grasped hers and he said breathing heavily, "This is the last layer." Understanding his message, she slid them down to reveal a very "happy" member.
Pouting, Buffy examined its size and gripped it with her hands. "It's a lot bigger than I thought," she said in all honestly. "I don't know if it'll fit, I'm pretty tight."
Fuck that's brilliant, he thought watching her hands run up and down his shaft stopping every so often to thumb his slit. Feels so good, I'm gonna cum before we even start.
Containing his eagerness, Spike chocked out, "Luv, you keep doing that and you're gonna need 'nother bath."
Buffy let go promptly and Spike instantly regretted his statement. Just when he thought she was denying him like Dru used too, she scooched forward and said, "The water's still relatively hot. Why don't you come in before it gets cold?"
Unable to hide his happiness at her action, he felt the bath water and slithered in with a hiss.
Damn water's gonna boil my skin off, he thought trying to stay calm and collected, how's this relatively hot?
As if she was reading his mind, Buffy turned on the cold water to adjust the temperature. "Feel better you big baby?"
"You're bloody brilliant," said Spike tilting forward to grace his fingertips across her should blades. "Anyone ever tell you that?"
At his touch, Buffy inclined into his body, feeling his hard length between her back and his torso. His hesitation to touch her was still evident. "You can put your arms around me, Spike. I don't bite. . . often." A fit of giggles erupted out of her mouth and she friskily scooped up some bubbles and wiped them across his nose.
Once again, Spike was dazed with her act and wondered how he could have gotten so lucky. Scooping up several bubbles into his palm, he planned to retaliate, but lost the chance when Buffy effortlessly slammed another handful of soapy bubbles onto his chin. Snickering, she turned around quickly in his lap and said pointing at his face, "Too slow!"
Releasing a heartfelt chuckle, he looked at her captivated and jokingly replied, "Oi. . .watch the face!" Still fully covered by bubbles, Buffy slinked onto his lap, allowing her legs to drape on both sides of his body. At her position change, Spike let out a hoarse breath and felt all his blood rush down south. Spike couldn't tell if she was deliberately rubbing her body against his throbbing length or if she genuinely didn't realize the affect she had on him. He guessed the latter, but remained silent watching her every move. Buffy leaned in to inspect his face and Spike could feel her body fully sliding over his form. He would do anything to see her fully naked, but the sensation she was giving him was too phenomenal to risk moving the bubbles and ruining the moment. Thinking she was going to kiss him, he bent slightly forward in response closing his eyes.
"Spike," Buffy whispered in his ear.
"Yes, luv?" said Spike trying to keep his hands to himself and his eyes closed.
"Don't ever grow a beard, okay?"
Spike's eyes burst open and Buffy subsequently splashed him with bath water taking him completely by surprise.
Observing his bubble free face, Buffy stated cheekily, "Much better," then began stroking his face with her hands.
Trying to reclaim the upper hand, Spike managed to think of a witty quip, but stopped when he felt Buffy's hands travel behind his head to his neck and back. Without another word, Buffy closed the space between them and caught Spike's lower lip with her mouth. Her hands embraced him forcefully, removing any space that had previously been between them.
Powerless to his overwhelming passion, Spike wrapped his body around Buffy's tiny frame, while managing to unclip her hair. He recoiled briefly to take in her messy sensual look and licked his lips at the sight. She was absolutely striking. Her eyes had gone from playful to lust filled in seconds and her intentions became quite clear.
Feeling Buffy grind into his hips with vigor, Spike reached out and drew her in for another deep kiss. Deciding to attempt going deeper, Spike ran his tongue along her lip. Breathlessly, Buffy allowed the action and they battled for dominance. He wanted to explore every part of her and she was more than willing to comply with his actions. At the sound of her raspy breathing several minutes later, Spike said through their kisses, "Are. . .you sure. . . you want to. . . do this?" He inhaled deeply while she withdrew to answer.
"I've wanted you in me since the first moment I laid eyes on you."
With her permission granted, Spike sank lower in the water to allow her to straddle him over his throbbing cock. He started nudging his length against her wet opening and she moaned in response.
Eyeing him below the water, Buffy said, "I meant what I said, I don't know if it'll fit. You're so big." She then snaked her hand under the water and pumped him several times feeling him pulsate underneath her touch. His eyes shut at the sensation, and he leaned his head against the back of the tub getting lost in the feeling.
"Spike," she tenderly whispered into his ear, while gently sucking and kissing his jaw toward his neck.
"Buffy," he panted lost in sensations she was giving him.
"You've been a naughty boy," a voice said hatefully spitting the words in his direction. His eyes shot open to reveal Dru straddling him, smiling wickedly while glaring into his eyes inches from his face. He was naked on his bed unable to free himself from the shackles she had used to bind his arms and legs to the headboard. Fully clothed, Dru reached out and clawed the side of his face with her pointy finger nails. Where Buffy had been kissing him affectionately, Dru continued to drag her nails along his jawline and cut zig zag patterns into his chest with a cackle.
Not remembering how he got here, he yelled in frustration over the loss of Buffy's warmth, "Get the fuck off me Dru!"
"I decide when we're done," she said humorlessly.
"Not this time," he spat trying to flip her off his hips in rage.
"Ah ah ah. . .my dark prince," she said waggling a finger in his face and tightening her grip on his hips, "my dollies say you need to be punished." Her smile turned up cruelly and Spike knew he was in trouble if he didn't get out of her chains. "I've brought your favorite game." She explained pulling a metal baton out from behind her and laughed joyously at his apparent dread of the object.
"That's not going anywhere near me," he snarled breaking the chains holding his limbs in place. "What the hell," he said in surprise rubbing his bare wrists.
Looking around his newly remolded bedroom, he thought, When did I repair everything?
Confused and unamused by the entire situation, he turned to get ahold of Dru, and realized he was alone.
"Dru," he yelled irritated by her games, "come out!"
Popping out from behind him, Dru said menacingly, "I see her all 'round you, dancing she is, like sunshine."
"Dru," he said exasperated, "I don't-," but was cut off by a slap to the face.
Getting propelled off his reclining chair, he fell to the ground abruptly in his living room. His head was spinning in circles. Exerting all of his energy, he fumbled over to the light switch and flicked it on to find his home was still in shambles. "How much did I bloody drink," he said running his hands through his hair. He peered around and spotted his entire Scotch collection empty on the floor.
"Fuckin' Scotch," he huffed in anger, "why'd you have to include Dru in my fantasy? Didn't even let me get to the good bits."
Feeling the sun on his back, he turned and put his hand over his eyes. How long was I out? He thought scrabbling around for his cell phone in his pants pockets. When he realized his belonging weren't in his pants, he noticed his jacket wasn't on his body or draped over the chair. He panicked momentarily and racked his brain. Where's my suit jacket? My cell and wallet are in the sodding pockets. Unable to think with a violent headache, he grabbed a few dollars out of his emergency money jar and shuffled over to the party story across the street. He was glad he had thought to put shades on because the sun was blinding.
Lowering his sunglasses, he searched for something to ease his pain. Finally, after several minutes he brought some aspirin and a bottle of water over to the cashier asking in a groggy tone, "Hey mate, got a paper and maybe the time?"
The old man looked up from his crossword and said eyeing his watch, "Paper's $2.50 and it's just after 3."
Paying for his items and grabbing his paper, Spike wobbled back to his flat feeling very hung-over. He reached out to grab his lobby's door, when he spotted Buffy holding his jacket. Afraid that he might look like death, he kept his sunglasses plastered on his face as he smiled.
"Buffy, what're you doing here luv?"
"Spike, are you okay," she said stunned by his smiling face.
"Yea, pet, of course, why'd you ask?"
"You haven't been in class for two days," she said genuinely concerned for his well-being.
Taking in her words, he flung the paper over to look at the date. How the bloody hell is it already Wednesday? He thought not remembering anything from the day before. Did I really blackout that long?
"Spike," Buffy said slowly edging closer to him and placing a hand on his arm, "are you alright?"
Getting pulled out of his confusion, he glanced at her in bewilderment and asked disregarding her first question, "How'd you know my nickname?"
Letting go of him in complete embarrassment, she glanced at the ground realizing her mistake. "I. . .well," she said trying to come up with an appropriate answer that didn't make her sound like a stalker.
Lifting her chin, Spike eyed Buffy closely not considering how intimate his touch had been. "It's fine, pet, you can tell me," he said softly.
"I. . .well," said Buffy stuttering and not looking directly into his eyes, "I. . .might have seen you and that dark haired woman talking about stuff. . .and she called you Spike. . .so I accidentally called you it too. I'm sorry."
Letting go of her chin in comprehension, he turned away completely mortified at her admission. She saw me and Dru. Probably thinks I'm a complete wanker.
Misunderstanding his turn as anger, she grabbed his arm again and apologized profusely, "Spike. . .I mean William. . .I'm very sorry I watched your conversation. I was following you to give you back your jacket and I saw you guys talking." Taking a deep breath, she continued speaking quickly so the now fully focused Spike wouldn't have a chance to interject. "I was going to leave and then she said those horrible things to you and I wanted to punch her in the face for being so cruel, but then you had that huge speech and I couldn't interfere at that point, you know." Watching him nod his head in agreement, she kept going, "And then you gave her the ring and it was so heartbreaking I felt I shouldn't bug you while you were obviously dealing with a bad breakup. After you went upstairs, I was planning on ringing your buzzer, but I thought you might consider me crazy if I just barged in, so I went home. But then you didn't come to class and I was worried, so that's why I'm here. All I want to know is, are you okay?" Inhaling deeply, she let go of his arm and slumped over in exhaustion.
"Buffy," he said quietly, "I don't think you're crazy, quite the opposite actually." She peered up in surprise at his words and waited for him to continue. "That was very sweet of you to bring my jacket over. I was just wonderin' where I'd placed it. It's got my phone and wallet in it, so truly. . . I appreciate it."
Grabbing the jacket from her, he briefly grazed her hand with his fingertips.
"William," she said in a hopeful voice, "are we good?"
"Spike," he said swiftly, "you can call me Spike. But just you, it'll be our little secret. I have to stay professional in class, so I go by William when I'm at Rockwell, but my nickname's Spike."
"Spike," she said again liking the new title, "are we good?"
"We're good, pet."
"You'll definitely be in class tomorrow," she sternly asked. "I don't know if you can miss any more days without getting fired." She watched as he chuckled.
"I suppose you're right. Wouldn't want hall monitor Buffy to take me out."
She giggled at his comment and his head snapped up at the sound. Sounds just like she did in my dream.
"Well," she said not wanting to leave, "I've got to go. Work starts in a half-hour and it looks like you need to change."
"Huh?"
"You're wearing the same suit from Monday, and you smell like booze."
"Will do, mom," he said watching Buffy cringe. "I'm kiddin', luv, see you tomorrow."
They both backed away slowly and then turned in opposite directions.
I'm glad he's okay, thought Buffy stealing glances at Spike.
My jacket smells like her, Spike thought sniffing his jacket, guess I won't be washin' it. He smiled as he walked back to his flat in a better mood. Now, time to fix my flat and find a new place to live.
