The next day, Spike arrived, as per usual, about forty-five minutes late. To tell the truth, that was just fine with Buffy, as it meant more sleep time for her. However, a contrite Spike insisted on making up for his tardiness by bringing donuts with him, three of which were chocolate glazed, and so he was instantly forgiven.
The day passed fairly quickly, which somewhat surprised Buffy. She was almost kicking herself in the head for whatever possessed her to invite him over thinking that it would improve her situation. A whole day with Spike?? It had 'tortuously slow' written all over it. Yet it seemed that any kind of company was an improvement to her perpetual alone time. They spent most of their time eating donuts and watching the horrible daytime television, but they did find common ground in that 'Passions' soap opera, and Spike was actually able to fill in most of the blank spots in the show's various plotlines. Which kind of scared her a little.
Sometime around five o'clock, Spike stood up from the couch and stretched, and Buffy's eyes were drawn to the sliver of flesh revealed by his shirt riding up his stomach as he lifted his arms above his head. The sliver of…pale, smooth, tightly muscled flesh…
She shook her head. Hard. Then looked up just as Spike was turning to face her.
"I'd best get going. Gotta meet up with the lads and rehearse some around six-ish. Plus, wouldn't want your da to come home to find his daughter had some dashing young man over while he was away."
Buffy snorted and rolled her eyes. "Well you don't have to worry about him ever finding that while you're visiting," she snarked.
"Ooh, nice one."
"Why thank you," she grinned. Her smile slowly faded as she realized that she actually had a decent time with him, just hanging out. Or, as the case may be, hanging in. And everything was surprisingly relaxed. Well, maybe not so surprising. It wasn't that they never spent any time together, it was just usually in the company of others, and they were usually verbally or physically abusing each other.
Buffy shrugged, and decided to run with it. "So, same time tomorrow?" she asked.
Spike looked back at her, genuinely surprised, and maybe even a little bit pleased? "Sure, pet. I'll be here."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And so it became a daily thing. Spike would either come over to her father's condo, or sometimes they would go out and get a bite to eat, or other times go back to Spike's motel room. It happened like it was something they had always done, this whole 'hanging out' together thing. And the talking. They were always talking.
Sometimes the conversations were absolutely inane.
Sitting on the couch in front of her father's big screen TV, Spike flipping through the channels at a dizzying rate.
"Good god, would you stop that?! I'm gonna hurl," Buffy whined.
"Oh, you are not. Quit your bitchin'," he replied.
"Technically this is my house you're loitering in. I should get the remote."
"And actually this is your father's home that you are loitering in, and you invited me to do so with you. I'm your guest, and as such, I should have the privilege of the control."
"Of the remote."
"Of the control."
"Yeah, don't hold your breath on that one, buddy."
"Bet I could longer than you."
"And you would be talking about what on earth?"
"Holding my breath. Bet I could longer than you."
"Please. You smoke!"
"Ready to admit defeat, then?"
"What. Ever. You're on."
Then, as if they were five-year-olds trying to get rid of the hiccups, they each took in a huge gulp of air and held it. They eyed each other for a moment, before almost simultaneously reaching for the other's nose, pinching the nostrils closed so that neither one could cheat.
Buffy held out for about a minute and a half, then rolled her eyes at Spike and released her breath with a gasp. Spike grinned and let his air out as well.
Buffy crossed her arms and slumped against the back of the couch. "You had to have cheated," she groused.
"First of all," Spike held up his pinky, "I play football, so my lungs have stamina. Secondly," he raised his ring finger, "I don't smoke if I have to sing in a couple of days. And third," he lifted his middle finger, "you're out of shape, Goldilocks."
Spike was immediately swatted in the face with one of the throw pillows on the couch. "In good enough shape to do that," Buffy smirked.
"I would treat me nicer than that if I were you, pet. After all, you just lost a bet, and I intend to collect."
"Oh, fabulous. What is it I have to do?"
Spike seemed to mull it over for a moment, then shook his head. "No. No, I don't think I'll collect just yet. I'll just let you know once I've come up with something real good."
Buffy whimpered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes the topics got personal.
Sitting cross-legged on the hood of Spike's Desoto, parked at the beach just after sunset, munching on French fries and onion rings.
Buffy dipped three fries in her ketchup, swallowing them down before asking, "So how old were you for your first kiss? Real kiss, I mean, with tongue."
"Twelve," Spike immediately answered, as though quite proud of the age. "Was with this bird I'd had a crush on for what felt like my whole life, name of Cecily. Thought I was in love, and she was the most beautiful, amazing girl in the world," he said wistfully. Then he shrugged, and continued, "Turned out she was really a cold-hearted rich-bitch, but hey. Still got a kiss out of it. What about you?"
"Also twelve. But it was with Angel."
"Ah."
"Well…what about first time?" she asked somewhat more shyly, glancing up at him from beneath her lashes.
"Fourteen," he sighed reluctantly. "With Dru."
"Oh…wow. Really?"
"What?" he asked, somewhat miffed. "She was my first love, we were in love. That's the way it's supposed to be, innit?" he huffed, offended.
"No, no, it's not that. It's just, the way you act sometimes, you wouldn't think it, is all. I mean, I wouldn't have known."
"Well, guess that goes to show we don't really know each other, doesn't it?"
Buffy nodded thoughtfully. "Seems like we're working on that though, huh?"
"Yeah. Guess so," he nodded, and they simply looked at each other for a moment. Then Spike shook himself out of it. "Well what about you? I'm assuming it was with the amazing mister forehead."
Buffy sighed, exasperated. "Yes, it was with Angel. It was about a week after my fifteenth birthday. And then four months later he left me. And the entire fucking city. But who says I'm bitter."
There was a moment of quiet then, both of them thinking surprisingly similar thoughts about the aforementioned Angel, none of which were especially pleasant.
Spike decided to dispel the tension by continuing with the topic at hand. "So, anyone in between him and Captain Cardboard?"
Buffy rolled her eyes and sighed with a mixture of irritation and relief. "Oh my god…okay, SO not bragging, but yes, there was a rebound guy, his name was Parker. He went to one of the private schools outside Sunnydale, we met at a party, I was lonely, he seemed really nice, blah blah blah, he was a one night stand who treated me like one, it was all very stereotypical. I'm over it," she finished with a huff. Then her expression took on a devilish grin as she returned her attention to Spike. "I'm not going to ask if you had a post-Drusilla fling."
"Do not. Say. A bleeding. Word."
"I mean," she continued gleefully, "it's not like the entire school didn't know about your little tryst with--"
"I'm warning you, Summers."
"--Harmony! Oh my god Spike, seriously, what the hell were you thinking?!" Buffy guffawed. She then began imitating the cheerleader's shrieking voice: "Oh, Spikey, where are you going? I'm going to follow you around like a brainless puppy, my little Blondie-Bear!" And again with the laughing. Once she had managed to calm herself, Buffy asked again. "Really, though, Spike. Why Harmony? Everybody knew you couldn't stand the sight of her."
Spike merely shrugged, and murmured, "I'd been with Dru for almost three years. I was lonely. She was willing. Guess it just felt nice to be wanted by someone."
At his quiet admission, Buffy's mirthful face softened, and she regarded his suddenly slumped shoulders, downcast eyes focused on the food wrapper laying on the hood.
"I get that," she whispered.
Spike looked up at her then, and knew that she did.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And sometimes their discussions became even more intimate.
Lounging in Spike's motel room after the band's last gig. Buffy idly strummed Spike's acoustic guitar.
"You know, I gotta ask."
"What's that, pet?" Spike asked, looking up from the sheet music he was studying.
"What's up with you and the whole music thing? I mean, it's cool and everything, but if I didn't already know it I never would've pegged mister-hard-ass-punk-rebel as a band geek."
Spike merely shrugged. "Music has always been a part of my life, I guess. Started out as a tyke with the piano lessons, then in grade school took up the violin, which in turn led to the guitar. As I got a bit older I got more interested in percussion, learned how to play most of those when I joined the symphony orchestra in my conservatory, then moved here and the rest is history."
"But what got it all started?"
Spike smiled sadly. "I'd have to say it was my mum. She made me take the piano lessons."
"Oh," she replied dumbly. The silence that followed was about to become uncomfortable, so Buffy decided to go ahead and get it out in the open. "So how is she?" she asked tentatively.
Spike took a deep breath and met her eyes. "As well as can be expected, I'd imagine. She's still in remission, so that's good."
"When was the last time you talked to her?"
"Couple weeks ago, right after school let out for the summer. She called and asked if I was excited about starting our senior year."
"Right, because we're always just so excited about school. How come every parent feels the need to ask that question?"
"Don't rightly know, pet, but apparently it's a universal thing. Parents across the globe thinking school is a happy thing. It's a right epidemic."
"Yup."
Any further conversation came skidding to a halt as they realized that their attempt to bring levity to a painful subject had failed miserably. It was common knowledge amongst the Scoobies, and a few other students in the band, that Spike's mother had taken extremely ill the year after Spike had moved to the states with his uncle. It turned out to be a malignant brain tumor, and though it was operable and removed, Anne had needed several rounds of radiation treatment and chemotherapy that nearly cost her her life. Spike had taken it pretty hard, and he almost got kicked out of school for skipping and causing trouble. But as time passed, things got back to normal, and most everybody did their best not to bring the subject up around Spike.
However, this was the first time Buffy had witnessed the almost tangible sadness that surrounded Spike if he thought about the whole situation too hard. She was just about to say something, anything to get his mind away from such dark places, when he sniffed and looked up at her.
"Sometimes," he began softly, "I can still hear her singin' to me like she used to when I was real little, you know? She liked those little folk ditties they sang back in the day, and there was this one she really fancied, she used to hum it while she was folding the wash or doing the bloody crossword. Sometimes it really got on my bleeding nerves, you know?" He coughed slightly as his voice broke on that last word. "But now I'd give just about anything to hear her sing it again."
He looked away from her then, and she knew it was to hide the emotions he was fighting. She took a deep breath, then quietly asked, "Do you know it?"
"Huh?"
"The song that your mom likes. Do you know how it goes?"
"Yeah. I know how to play most of them on the guitar."
"Would you play it for me?"
Wordlessly, Spike reached out and took the guitar from Buffy, briefly strumming it and tuning the strings, then began a lilting melody that filled the small motel room. Every so often she could hear him hum along with the tune, but he never sang the words aloud. The song was short, and all too soon he had stopped and was simply staring back at her.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy's plan to make her stay at her father's go by more quickly worked a little too well, as her mother was coming to pick her up the following evening to bring her home. And--surprise, surprise--her father was just too busy at the office to spend her final day actually with her. So, once again, she lay sprawled out on the bed in Spike's motel room, watching him cross the room back and forth as he packed his own things up, as his checkout time was noon the next day.
She spotted Spike's wallet sitting on the bedside table, and picked it up and began looking through it. Once again, she came across his fake ID's, and she took it out to better study the picture of the boy she barely recognized.
"You know what I still haven't figured out?"
"What's that, then?" his voice called back from the bathroom, and he came back into the room carrying his toothbrush and hair gel.
"What's with the drastic change in physical appearance?" She held up the ID for visual effect.
"Oi! What's with the rifling though other people's personal belongings, then?"
"Oh hush. Answer the question. I mean, when you lived in London you were all goofy with the longer, curlier hair and the glasses, and the," she squinted at the picture, "is that a bowtie?"
"You just answered your own question, there, luv."
"Well I get that part, obviously, who would voluntarily continue to look like that? But I mean, why?"
Spike was silent for a moment, then decided to answer her. "I was going to be moving to the other side of the planet. Nobody was gonna know me. Nobody was gonna be able to compare any versions of me. And most important, nobody was gonna fuck with me this time round."
"So it's all just tough guy talk?"
"Hey. Just because this isn't who I used to be doesn't mean this isn't who I am now. Just ask your ex-hunny, he'd be able to tell you if I can walk the walk. Now how about we leave off of this subject, because it's startin' to piss me off now."
"And you're looking to take me with you, by the sound of it. I was just asking. I thought we were 'getting to know each other,'" she put the last words in air quotes.
"Yeah, well, remind me why we're doin' that again?"
"At this point, I'm not sure I remember."
"Me neither."
"Jesus! What the hell crawled up your ass sideways and died?! It's like you're--devolving or something!" she shouted at him.
"Well, you're leaving!" he yelled back.
"What?? You're leaving too! What does that have to do with anyth--" She was cut off as Spike suddenly rushed forward, kneeling before her on the bed and grasping her shoulders, dragging her mouth to his in a fierce, demanding…really fucking hot kiss. The force of it knocked Buffy onto her back, but her arms were already locked around his neck and she pulled him down with her.
Spike broke away with a gasp, and looked down at the flushed and beautiful face beneath him. It was a face that once brought nothing but revulsion, and now brought forth the greatest desire he'd felt in a long time. Maybe in his entire life.
"What's happening to me?" he panted.
Buffy chose that moment to free her legs, which had been trapped at an awkward angle beneath her body, and wrap them around Spike's hips, grinding his raging hard-on against her clit, making them both gasp.
"I think we both know exactly what's happening here, Spike," she grinned. Spike met her gaze and slowly met her devilish smile with one of his own, then surged against her so hard it made her toes curl.
"I think you're right," he purred, then proceeded to slide his hands up her shirt, palming her breasts and squeezing them slightly, smirking as she whimpered at the contact. He continued to push up her shirt, until she lifted her arms so he could take it completely off, then immediately twisted open the front clasp of her bra, his mouth descending hotly to the first nipple he saw.
Buffy cried out and arched against him, his tongue flicking across her nipple before he nibbled on it lightly, making her cry out again. She reached down to thread her fingers though his hair, mussing it from it's slicked-back state in what appeared to be a caress, until she grabbed handfuls of it and dragged him up her body, her neck craning forward to catch his lips as soon as they were within reach. His mouth immediately opened and welcomed her tongue inside where he met it with his own, sliding wetly against each other.
Buffy's hands slid down Spike's back, fisting his tee shirt and pulling it out of the waist of his jeans so she could feel the silk of his skin. The contact seemed to spur him into further action, and he reached down to undo her jeans and shove them down over her hips, taking her thong with them. Dimly, Buffy realized what he was doing and lifted her hips to assist him, kicking the jeans the rest of the way off. As soon as they were free she wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing her searing heat in direct contact with Spike's quivering abdominal muscles, making them both gasp in shock.
Buffy began whimpering as she ground herself against his hardness, and Spike continued sucking and licking the flesh of her breasts. "Oh god…oh god…please," she whispered.
At her whimpered "please," Spike ripped himself away from her, getting up to his knees in between her legs, which remained wantonly spread. He whipped his belt out of its loops and tore open his button fly, shoving his jeans down around his thighs and collapsing back down to Buffy's waiting arms, positioned himself at her dripping entrance and with one surge forward claimed both her mouth and her body, their lips muffling each other's near screams of pleasure.
Buffy locked her legs around his hips, holding him tightly against her, willing her body to adjust to being filled so completely. Her eyes squeezed shut as she felt him pulse inside of her, even as he seemed to continually pushing against her as though trying to get his entire body inside. Then her eyes shot open, unseeing, as Spike wrapped his arms around her lower back and pressed himself so deeply inside of her she was sure she might burst, then her entire body quaked and shuddered as the fastest orgasm she'd ever had in her life rushed though her, clamping her walls down on Spike's cock and flooding it with her cum.
The sound Spike let out was a cross between a moan and a growl, and he tightened his arms around her even as he raised his head to look into her face. He saw the exact same feelings reflected there that he was experiencing. This was more intense than anything either of them had ever felt with anybody. Spike was harder than he'd ever been in his life, and Buffy had just come from having him inside of her. And they hadn't even started to move yet.
Spike remedied that situation as he held Buffy's gaze in his own, slowly pulling out of her and shuddering as he felt the pull of her inner muscles trying to keep him in. Just as slowly he pushed back in, both of them groaning as they felt every single inch of their highly sensitized flesh slide together.
A look of understanding passed between them, then, and they both accepted that this was really happening. And that it was going to me amazing. And that slow and easy was just not going to happen this time.
Spike grinned before he grasped her hips in his hands, clutching them tightly enough to leave ten tiny bruises the next day, and began thrusting inside her as hard as he could. Buffy wailed and threw her arms up above her head, fingers gripping the edge of the mattress as he pounded into her. She was spiraling out of control at a breakneck speed, and he was close on her tail. Their grunts and moans of pleasure filled the room, raising in volume as they hurtled toward orgasm.
Spike's steady rhythm began to hitch and come undone when he felt her inner walls fluttering around him, making him pound even harder, which in turn made Buffy cry out as she finally came, squeezing him so tight he was worried he might bruise, and he pushed himself inside her as far as he could possibly go and exploded, flooding her with load after load of his cum. They wrapped their arms around each other, holding tightly as the feelings simply refused to stop.
At last their bodies began to relax, and Spike gingerly pulled himself out of her, both of them feeling slightly sore. He slid slightly off of her so as not to crush her completely, buried his face in her neck and they both promptly passed out.
Twenty minutes later Spike jolted awake with a loud, "Oh, fucking hell!"
Buffy yelped and shot up to a sitting position, got dizzy and fell right back down on her back. "What's wrong?"
"Buffy, for the love of god please tell me you're sorted out."
It took a moment for Buffy to figure out what the hell he was talking about, then couldn't help but giggle at his panic-stricken face.
"Relax, Spike. I've been on the pill since I was fourteen."
"Oh thank god," he sighed, collapsing back on top of her and nuzzling his face against her breasts, pillowing his head on them.
Buffy grunted as she pushed at his shoulders until he moved off of her, earning her a disgruntled "Hey!" from Spike. She rolled her eyes at him and began tugging off the shirt he still halfway wore, then pushed his jeans the rest of the way off his legs until he was just as naked as she. "There," she said. "Much better."
"I'm inclined to agree, pet," he murmured sleepily. He got under the covers of the bed and held open his arms to her. He was so adorable laying there with his rumpled hair and sleepy face, his lips still swollen from their fierce kisses. Buffy crawled over to him and slipped under the covers herself, sidling up against him, her heated flesh meeting his. He instinctively wrapped one arm around her shoulders and the other covered hers as it lay upon his chest, her leg sliding over his to nestle in between them. They were both sound asleep in moments.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, Buffy stepped out of the bathroom freshly showered and fully dressed, and watched as Spike finished up his packing.
"So you want me to just drop you off at your da's before I head out?" he asked, not looking up from the bag he was filling.
Buffy sat down on the bed to put on her shoes. "Yeah, that'd be fine. Mom should be here sometime around six tonight. Maybe I'll even see my dad before then," she added with some sarcasm.
"Right then." Spike did look at her then, holding her gaze for a moment, and their understanding was once again reaffirmed. "And we're still agreeing that this was great, but nothing can come of it, yeah? Just the consequence of spending too much time together."
"Yeah," Buffy smiled slightly, standing up from the bed. "Definitely something that should stay here in L.A. along with the rest of our temporary insanity."
Spike nodded, and they headed for the door. The car ride back to her father's was made in mostly silence, though not necessarily an uncomfortable one. Their agreement was most definitely for the best, in every way. They pulled up in front of the condo and said their "see you laters," but neither of their smiles quite reached their eyes.
As it turned out, her father did make a guest appearance, bringing home some Chinese takeout for them to eat. She was almost genuinely surprised, until she realized that he put himself at home with her just in time for Joyce to find them 'happily' enjoying a meal together. Prick.
Buffy left with her mother, making idle conversation about how her visit was, blah blah blah. Two hours later they pulled into the drive of 1630 Revello. She spent a couple of hours sitting on the couch watching TV with her mother, then decided to call it a night. She trudged up the stairs, changed into her pajamas and was asleep before her head hit the pillow. But not before her thoughts drifted back to a certain bleached acquaintance.
The next day, Buffy found herself standing in front of a door, questioning her sanity as she raised her hand to knock. A few moments later Spike swung the door open, a look of shock passing suddenly over his handsome feature. Just as suddenly, the shock melted away to pure relief.
"Oh, thank god."
Buffy's only reply was to launch herself into his waiting arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as he kicked the door closed and turned to go up the stairs.
They didn't make it to his room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The present day…
Buffy was jostled out of her reverie by somebody bouncing on her bed. She opened scowling eyes, preparing to tear into Dawn for barging into her room unannounced. What she found instead was the grinning face of Spike.
"Hey," she smiled happily.
"Hey yourself," he replied.
"What are you doing here? Is it seven o'clock already?"
"Nope, not just yet. But I thought I'd come over a little early."
"What for?" she asked coyly.
"Well," he drawled, settling down next to her and leaning his torso over hers. "I just knew that I wasn't gonna be able to spend a whole evening with you without touching you, so I thought I'd get it out of the way."
"Oh really."
"Yeah. So. Wanna snog?"
"Oh yes," she giggled, then wrapped her arms around his neck and met his lips with her own, and they indulged in a nice long make-out session.
"Buffy! Spike!" Joyce's voice floated up from downstairs.
Maybe not that long.
"Yes?" Buffy called back, as Spike let out a frustrated growl against her neck, muttering something about adoring her mother, but…
Buffy couldn't agree more when her mother continued. "You're friends just pulled up in front of the house. Just thought I'd give you fair warning!"
"Gee, thanks. We'll be down in a minute!"
They both sighed as they stood up, making sure all articles of clothing were in order and no hair was messed up. They made their way down the hall and stopped at the landing of the stairs. Spike leaned down and pecked her on the lips once, then twice, and walked down the stairs. Buffy took a deep breath, waited a few moments, then followed him down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay. There is no excuse for not having this up when I said it would be. So I'm not even going to try to explain. Only apologize. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. Okay, that having been said, I hope you liked it. This whole backstory thing was a real bitch to write, and I'm hoping that continuing with the actual story will help keep me motivated. That, and lots of reviews from my wonderful readers.
Now, I'd like to do something that I've been meaning to get to. I'd like to take this time to thank a few of the other amazing authors out there for inspiring and entertaining me.
First, I'd like to thank Eurydice, whose stories can be found here on fanfiction.net and her homepage. She was the one who inspired me to even attempt to write Spuffy fanfic, in hopes that I could come up with stories even half as amazing as hers are.
Next, I'd like to dedicate this story to Echidna, whose AU Spuffy story A Touch Of Jealousy, which can be found at spuffyfantasy.com, was the inspiration to write a high school AU Spuffy fantasy fic.
Also, these last two chapters are dedicated to Cariann, whose Memories…They Always Come Back to Haunt You Series, found at vampires-kiss.net, was the inspiration for the flashback style of telling the story of how Buffy and Spike got together.
And finally, I have to give my thanks and utter respect to Mary, whose Journeys series is by far the best fanfic I have. Ever. Read. Period. If you call yourself a Spuffy shipper, then you must read this story. I'm not even going to try to explain how amazing it is. Go to allaboutspike.com and read it yourself.
I couldn't possibly list the rest of the countless authors who have touched my life. The world is too full of them, and I'd never be able to remember them all. Plus they'd fill up about three damn pages of an already way too long chapter. So with that, I bid you all adieu, and thank you.
Coquine
