author's note: As the story goes on, it will get a bit racier so anything that isn't allowed by ff.net will be edited.

Chapter 8

"Movie?" Buffy asked.

"You pick."

"Um...Sun's running a scary moviethon for Halloween."

"Yeah?"

"Tonight is The Exorcist."

"Fine..."

"You don't seem too enthused," she said, turning her head to look at him.

"Busy."

"Rubbing my leg?"

"It looks sore."

"It looks like a leg."

"Been working all day, running around the gallery, thought maybe..." He kneaded the skin of her calf and she closed her eyes, silently patting herself on the back for wearing a skirt.

"You know, there's not a whole lot of running going on in the gallery. I mostly sit."

"You want me to stop?" Spike asked, his hand now reaching under the hem of the skirt. "Because I will." His hand stayed but his fingers stopped moving.

"Do whatever you want," she answered, hoping she sounded aloof.

"Well, if that's the case..." He finally looked up at her and the look in his eyes made her smile nervously. The hand under her skirt went to her hip while the other worked it's way under her stomach. He flipped her onto her back and moved above her. "You sure I can do whatever I want?"

She nodded her head dumbly, not even attempting to find her voice to answer him. Her mind was too busy trying to process anything other than, "His hand is under my skirt, his thumb is moving across my hipbone, he can feel my underwear...".

"That's good to know." He rose from the bed quickly, grabbed her hand and lifted her. "Best be off. Don't want to miss the movie." He walked out of his room and she could have sworn she heard him laughing softly to himself.

"Son of bitch," she mumbled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where do you like to sit?" Buffy asked.

"Back. You?"

"Middle."

"Then that's where we'll go."

"Spike, if you want to sit in the back, tell me you want to sit in the back. I know you can be assertive when you want to be."

"I want to sit in the back."

She studied him for a minute and nodded. "Okay, I'll meet you at the door when it's over." She walked up the stairs and headed for the middle row. She stopped when his fingers curled around her upper arm.

"We're sitting in the back."

She smiled and walked up the stairs to the back of the theater. He waited until she sat before he followed her. There was something different about her tonight. She wasn't acting as nervous as she had been, which was great, but he wondered what had happened. After the previous night, he didn't expect her to be so...carefree.

He expected her to put up her defenses, break their date, barely speak...whatever. He certainly didn't think that she would have launched herself at him before he barely closed the door to his house. That was the first thing that struck him as odd. He thought she would be averting her eyes and looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. Instead of all those things he wrongly thought, she entered his house and kissed him. It was short and sweet and she didn't say a word about it. She simply acted like it was the most normal thing to do, which it was, but this was Buffy. If Spike had learned anything in last month, it was that she could be anything but normal.

They had gone upstairs to his room where she had immediately stretched, face down, on his bed and picked up the entertainment section of the newspaper. They had made idle chit chat about their respective days but Spike was still thrown for a loop. There was no discussion of the previous night, she didn't retreat from him, if anything she was more forthcoming than ever before, and it struck him that they were acting like a couple. If anyone had actually looked at them tonight, they would think just that but the thing that bothered Spike the most was that he didn't even know. He was going to find out, though. Tonight, in fact, and if she didn't like it...well, that was too bad for her.

"What are you thinking about?" Buffy asked.

"I'm not."

"You were staring at the screen and unless the dancing popcorn really holds your interest, you were thinking about something."

"We'll talk later," Spike told her and she shrugged, nodding in agreement.

"You want some popcorn?"

"No."

"Well, if you do it's right here." She picked up his hand and brought it to the container resting between her legs. "Think you'll remember?"

"Yeah, think I can." He grabbed a handful of popcorn anyway and Buffy watched as his tongue darted out and grabbed a kernel from his hand. She continued to watch until all the popcorn was gone.

She didn't realize his tongue was so long.

"Something the matter?" Spike whispered.

"Nope. Napkin?"

"Thanks ever so."

She watched him wipe his fingers and mouth clean and decided that he was far more fascinating than a movie she had seen a dozen times. Besides, she never really understood the beginning with the archeological dig. She always fast-forwarded this part.

"Hey," she whispered. "You missed a spot."

"Where?"

She smiled as she leaned over the armrest and licked the skin near the corner of his mouth.

"All better."

Spike tried not to have a reaction, he really did. He tried to stay in his seat and keep his hands to himself. However, if she felt like she could act like that, she had no idea what she was playing at. He decided to play it cool, bide his time until the opportunity presented itself for a little payback. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, being as discrete as he could, feeling confident that she had no idea that he was sitting there waiting.

Her lips wrapped around the straw of her drink and he couldn't prevent the thoughts that it conjured; her hand reached over and squeezed his thigh when they gave Regan the spinal tap and he couldn't help to wish she would move her hand just a wee bit higher; she turned her head, burying it in the folds of his leather jacket and he wanted to rip the armrest out of the way so she could properly hide using any part of him that she wanted.

"You alright, pet?"

"Sure, I just hate that part. It's a crucifix for goodness sake," she whispered harshly, feeling her cheeks burn in embarrassment. She took a handful of popcorn and brought it to her mouth, gobbling it up. A piece fell down the front of her shirt and she rolled her eyes in annoyance. She briefly wondered if guys had to search for popcorn. She opened her shirt a little and peered inside, not being able to see anything.

"Problem?"

"No," she said quickly. She lifted the bottom of her shirt and as she went to put her hand under it, Spike's hand covered hers. "What?"

"What are doing?"

"Popcorn."

He leaned over the arm rest, his mouth coming to her ear. "I can help you look."

The soft noise that escaped her was involuntary and she was thankful for the darkness because he wouldn't be able to see the deep red that now stained her cheeks. His mouth moved down to her neck, the tip of his nose and lips barely grazing her skin, causing goosebumps to rise. He kissed her collarbone, his tongue darted out to lick it lightly and he heard her sharp intake of breath.

She wasn't stopping him, wasn't planning on it, in fact but that didn't mean her brain wasn't telling her to make him stop. What he was doing was driving her crazy and she had to bite the inside of her mouth to make sure she make any more noise. His hand slipped under her shirt, fingertips trailing across her skin from side to side and then up.

"Nothing there."

She could only nod.

He moved his lips further down to the v in her shirt, his chin pushing the shirt down as he continued. When she felt his tongue lightly lick her cleavage she wished that she had worn her push-up bra. When he moved to the swell of her breast, her hand shakily reached out to touch his head, threading her fingers in his hair.

"Spike..."

"Mmm?"

"You have to...not do that."

"Mmm?"

"We're supposed to be watching a movie."

She felt him shrug and then his hand moved her shirt down just a bit. Just enough that most of her lace covered breast was showing.

"This is indecent."

"Don't care," he mumbled.

"Maybe I do."

She could feel his warm breath on her nipple, his mouth a fraction away from it and there was a part of her that wanted to just take back what she said and push his head down but the larger part of her, the part that knew that the first time he did that, it shouldn't be in the back of a crappy movie theater, stopped her from doing or saying anything. He quickly pushed her top in place and leaned back in his chair. The adjustment of his pants didn't go unnoticed by Buffy and she tried to stifle the grin that wanted to form on her mouth.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she said, turning to look at him, making sure she wore a smile.

"That was...inappropriate of me. I shouldn't-" She put her fingers on his lips, halting his words.

"It is fine," she stressed. "I'll be right back."

He watched her as she put the popcorn container on the ground and she walked by him quickly and down the stairs. He picked up the popcorn and turned it from side to side, a sly smirk forming on his mouth as he realized she must have crushed it with her legs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy pushed the bathroom door opened and headed straight to the sink. She glanced in the mirror, feeling her skin burn even more at the sight of her overly flushed cheeks. She pulled a few pieces of paper towel out of the dispenser and ran them under cold water, blotting her face and neck.

"Sit in the back, Buffy. Brilliant idea. There's no other reason to sit in the back other than to do...those things," she chastised her image in the mirror. "Stupid."

She heard a toilet flush and the lock being undone and she groaned. She was standing here talking to herself and someone overheard her. Great. Wonderful. Couldn't get any more embarrassing than that.

"My boy always did love to sit in the back."

No wait. It could.

Buffy remained stoic, not saying a word as her eyes moved in the mirror to look at the dark beauty that stood next to her, washing her hands. How did Spike go from this girl to her? They were nothing alike. She couldn't find one physical attribute that could even remotely be seen as similar. And she knew, without knowing her, that they were as different as night and day when it came down to their personalities.

"You do well not to refuse him. There isn't anything that I didn't teach him to do well."

"I've heard there's one thing," Buffy retorted.

Drusilla stared at her a moment and reached across her to the towel dispenser. "He may be right. He may never...pry apart those dimpled knees after all."

"Excuse me?"

"He's an impatient boy, dearie. He thinks he's never going to get to the gold but you should tell him the pot is all his."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Buffy asked, growing increasingly irritated.

"Mind the car. You might scratch something."

Buffy rolled her eyes and turned from her, throwing the wet paper towels in the trash. She looked at Drusilla again and they both looked each other over.

"The bed of roses is lying in wait. Be careful or you may prick yourself on a thorn."

Buffy snorted and shook her head slowly. "Oh, that's right. Spike mentioned something about how you thought you were physic." She walked over to the door and opened it. "Tell me. Can you read my mind...right now?" She arched her eyebrow and didn't wait for a response as she exited the room.

Drusilla turned back to the mirror, her smile growing cold as she primped the curls in her hair. "Well, that wasn't very nice at all."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Buffy turned the corner from the bathroom, she crashed into a hard body. His hands quickly went to her waist to steady them and she looked up, ready to give this person a piece of her mind before she saw that it was Spike.

"You alright? Mumbling to yourself is always a sign of..." Spike trailed off as he saw Drusilla walk out of the restroom. She looked at them smugly, a look he knew could only mean one thing. She was trying to stir up trouble. When she was out of earshot, he turned back to Buffy, who was staring in the direction that Dru had gone. "She bother you, pet?"

"No."

"Funny how I don't believe that."

"God, how did you date her? She has to be one of the creepiest people I have ever come across. Ooh, I'm psychic, look at me! Look at me!" Buffy mocked. "I really don't like her."

Spike contained his smile and then realized what she said. "Wait...Buffy, did she tell you something?"

"No, she's just weird."

"Still not believing you."

"What? Are you psychic now, too? Am I being left out of some cool new club or something?"

"No, you're averting your eyes. When you have something you don't want to tell me, you avert your eyes."

She looked at him then and said, "She didn't say anything. Can we please drop it?"

He studied her for a moment and nodded. "Right. You want to get out of here, then?"

"Yes." She walked away before he could do or say anything else.

He followed a few steps behind her as she walked to his car. When they approached, she spun around and the fire in her eyes was unmistakable.

"Did you think that we would just sit there in the movie theater and make out the whole time? Or that I thought gee this would be a great place for us to do it?"

"What?" Spike asked, flabbergasted.

"We haven't been going out that long, Spike. I'm not a prude but I don't jump into bed with the first cute guy that shows an interest in me. So, if you're looking for a quick fuck, it's not coming from me. I'm sorry that you're not going to be able to pry apart my knees right away but you're just going to have to deal with it or decide you don't want to do this anymore."

"Christ, Summers, if I had a sodding clue as to what the hell you were talking about right now, I might be able to respond properly but since I don't, I'm at a loss."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Let me guess. Dru said I wanted you for a shag and that's about all I want from you."

"Look, I don't know why you didn't have sex with her and I don't care but I am not going to be used. I've been there, done that."

Before she saw him coming, he was grabbing a hold of her arms and pushing her against the side of the car. He clenched his jaw, trying to reign in the aggravation that was consuming him and loosened his grip. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, letting it out slowly.

"I don't know what she said to you, Buffy, but it's not true."

"Yeah," she said her tone dismissive.

"It is not true. I'm not using you, I could never use you and the only thing of yours I'm looking to pry open at the moment is that bolted door you lock yourself behind. Do you want me to deny the fact that I don't want you? I will. It won't be true but I'll do it. You want me to tell you that I don't think about you lying underneath me, naked, those lovely little noises you make coming out of you as I touch you? I'll do that, too, but it's just as much a lie as the other. I'll tell you whatever you want to hear to make you understand that this is not about that. Not for me."

"But you think about it," she stated, softly, her anger burning away to nothing.

"Bloody hell, Summers. I'm eighteen and I date you. It's all I think most days but it's not why I'm with you. It's not why I want to be with you." His hands moved to her waist and he lifted her to sit on the hood of the car. One hand stayed while the other went under her chin, lifting her face to his. He kissed her lightly and sighed. "I'm sorry that she upset you. I told her to stay away from you. I warned her not to-"

"It's okay. I'm fine...She got under my skin. I let her get to me. I shouldn't have. I know better than that."

"Are you mad about what happened in there?"

She took a moment before answering. "No."

"You can tell me if you are, luv. I acted like a total git...I thought you were playing around. I thought you wanted-"

"I did...but not there." He didn't say anything but his thumb started moving in circles on her hipbone. "I think about it, too," she admitted, her voice so soft he barely heard her. "Like all the time and it sort of terrifies me but in this really great way that I can't explain." She looked at him, her eyes searching his. "Does that make sense?"

"I've been waiting for you," he whispered.

"What do you mean?" She didn't know why they were speaking in hushed tones, there was no one else around to hear them. It seemed to make their conversation all the more intimate and that scared her even more. She realized then that they were both so afraid of sharing these things with each other that they couldn't speak any louder if they wanted to.

"When we moved in and I saw you...I've placed you on this pedestal and I've wanted you for so long, thought about you, dreamed about you...I've been drowning in you for years, Summers, and now that you're here..."

"Spike, you should have said-"

"Said what? Dump the poofter and be with me? That wouldn't have happened." When he heard her begin to protest, he shook his head. "It wouldn't have. When I left this summer, I wanted you gone. I wanted you out of my mind. You were driving me crazy...even in the first weeks I was there, you were all I bloody thought about it and when I met her...I thought she could save me. And she did. I'm not denying that I loved her or that I wouldn't still be with her if I hadn't caught her but I wonder..."

"Wonder what?"

"I wonder if I threw myself into it because it wasn't you. She opened me up to things-"

"I really don't want to know what she opened, thank you very much."

He continued on, though, needing for her to hear this. "She opened me up to things that I am grateful for. She stripped away parts of me that I didn't know how to do on my own and the entire time I thought when I get back, you're going to see me, this new me and you're going to regret not snatching me up when you had the chance." He laughed lightly and Buffy smiled. She put her hands on his waist and brought him closer to her, opening her legs to fit him between them.

"Go on," she urged as her fingers pulled his t-shirt from his jeans and made their way under.

"There was this part of me that couldn't give her everything, though, and she knew that. She hated it and when she found a picture I had of you-"

"You had a picture of me? From where?"

"It's not important."

"How did you get a picture of me, Spike?"

"I stole it from your basement when I was down there getting something for your mother one day, alright? I'm deeply shamed," he said, with a roll of his eyes.

"No, you're not," her voice light.

"She found it and was not pleased. After that she was always prattling on about my secret crush, teasing me about how I was waiting for a bleeding pot of gold."

He didn't notice the sharp breath Buffy took when he said that. Her mind went completely blank for a second before she realized he was still talking and she could always examine that further after they were done.

"And when I found her with that wanker in the park...and she went on and on about my glowing girl, the one I was waiting for, I knew she was right."

"So you did know what she was talking about that day she said I glowed."

He nodded his head. "What I'm trying to say, Buffy, is that I've waited all this time for you. You. I can wait even longer now that I have you."

"What if...what would you have done if I wasn't here, though? You couldn't wait forever."

"I'd force myself to move on like I did with Dru. I was happy with her and I could be happy with someone." He leaned in closer to her, his lips brushing hers. "But I'd always wonder what it would have been like to have you."

She kissed him then. How could she not? He waited for her...for something he didn't know if he would ever get but he did. And she believed him whole heartedly.

He gripped her waist and pulled her closer until every part of their bodies that could be touching was. He groaned as he felt her fingernails dig into his back and her thighs tighten their hold around his hips. He followed her actions, his own fingers tightening their hold on her waist. She bucked her body against him when he pushed his [edit] against her.

"Oh..." she whispered. "We shouldn't-"

"You're right," he agreed as he continued to move against her. "We'll stop."

"Yeah..."

"Right..." He broke away from her mouth and looked at her, his eyes heavy with lust and satisfied that she looked the same way. He began to back away when Buffy lunged forward, putting her hand on the back of his head and smashing his mouth to hers. Their tongues dueled, in her mouth, then into his, licking lips, teeth nipping, lips sucking. Their breath seemed to combine into one harsh pant as they continued kissing on and on, barely breaking away to suck in a breath before attacking one another again.

"I thought...we were...stopping."

"Shut up," Buffy demanded lightly, taking his bottom lip into her mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head and he pulled her even closer. "Spike, I'm going to...fall off the...car."

"Sorry," he mumbled, lifting her a bit and placing her back where she was. "Good?"

"Mmm-hmm."

Her hand slid down the front of his jeans, cupping him. He groaned and she smiled against his lips. She wasn't getting the upper hand in this, he decided and mimicked her actions. He had to repress another moan at the feel of her heat seeping through her silk panties. He thumb brushed across her [edit] and she jumped in response.

"Ow!"

Spike immediately stepped away, his eyes wide. "I hurt you?"

"No...no, no you didn't. I think I scratched my leg..." She lifted her leg slightly and saw that there was a small gash in the paint, which was lifted up. "Looks like someone keyed your car."

"What?" he growled and stepped over to look. "Fucking assholes..." He saw her trying to see the cut on the back of her leg without lifting her leg too high. "Let me take a gander, pet."

"It's fine. Didn't do anything but kill the moo..." she trailed off, embarrassed.

"Moo?" he asked, smirking, eyebrow cocked in amusement.

"Hush."

"Let me." He bent down and turned her leg slightly and lifted it. There were about five different scratches and he instantly felt bad for moving her back and forth so much.

Buffy saw his frown and rested her hand along the side of his face. "It's not your fault. I didn't even notice before."

"Yeah, looks like it got you good. Must have been the last time. You're going to be fine. Get you home, put some medicine on it and you'll be good as new."

"Will you help me?"

"Just the job I was looking for." He kissed near the cuts and put her leg back down. He kissed her knee and she giggled, which caused him to smile against her skin. He continued up and when she felt his tongue slide ever so slightly against the skin of her inner thigh, she shivered.

"Spike..."

He shot up and grabbed her around the waist, lifted her off the car and set her on the ground.

"Let's get you home and fixed up."

++++++++

to be continued