Chapter Twenty - Nine
"You ready? The taxi's here..." Spike called from the living room. Buffy appeared at the bedroom door with a smile.
"Of course I'm ready - why wouldn't I be?" she asked sweetly, twirling a lock of her long blonde hair round a finger in an ultra-sweet manner and smiling coyly. Spike's jaw dropped as he took in the vision standing before him. No matter how long he knew her, she would never stop astounding him with how beautiful she was, and tonight was no exception.
After the shock of earlier, the two had returned home and spent a few hours lying on the sofa watching lame Saturday afternoon programming and trying not to think about anything too hard. The treatment seemed to have worked and Buffy had calmed down quickly and declared that her 'scare' had been 'one of those things' and that she was 'over it'. Spike hadn't been convinced at first, his natural over-protective instinct kicking in, but she'd drawn the line when he'd tried to provide an ice-pack for the back of her neck and he'd wisely decided to let the subject drop.
And she certainly looked as if she was over it. The short, black dress she was wearing followed the line of her petite body perfectly, emphasising her curves in a way Spike could fully appreciate. The square-cut neckline revealed a tantalising amount of cleavage, still surprisingly tanned despite the months spent in a colder and definitely less sunny climate.
Spike's gaze wandered down her form to where the dress ended at mid-thigh revealing her toned and perfect legs. He swallowed and wrenched his stare back up to her face.
She smiled and tossed her long golden locks over her shoulder. "Do I look all right?" she asked in that tome that girls use when they know they look great, but just want to make a guy say it. She smiled knowingly at him.
"Y-you look..." he trailed off and gathered himself. "S'pose you look all right," he ended nonchalantly, before breaking into a grin when her face fell. "Come on, pet - you know you're stunning. You don't need me to tell you that. Anyway, taxi's waiting, we'll be late." He indicated the door and she flounced past him and into the waiting taxi, pretending to be mad at him.
The pretence didn't last long as she caught him trying to hold back the laughter and soon they were both seated in the back of the taxi, giggling at each other.
Spike gave the taxi driver the address of the restaurant and they both settled down as the taxi pulled off.
Spike stared out of the window and watched the dark streets pass by. He jumped slightly as he felt Buffy's warm breath on the back of his neck. He turned his head to see that she had scooted up against him, her head resting on his shoulder.
"Can I tell you a secret?" she asked coyly.
"Of course you can, pet."
"You promise not to tell anyone...?"
"Promise."
She bit her lip and lowered her gaze for a moment before reaching over to whisper in his ear. "I'm not wearing any panties."
Spike coughed and suddenly sat up straight, hitting his head on the low ceiling of the car. "Pardon?" he asked, wondering if he'd heard her right.
Buffy smiled and threw a glance at the driver. Once she was confident he wasn't watching them, she discreetly took hold of Spike's hand and drew it towards her. Spike watched almost in awe as she parted her legs slightly and allowed him to run his hand slowly up her thigh. He moaned quietly as his knuckles brushed the hair at the apex of her legs and he bit his lip softly.
"God, pet. You can't do this to me," he complained softly into her ear as he gently explored further, still not quite believing that this girl would willingly leave the house in a short skirt and without any underwear.
"Why not - don't you like my surprise?" she breathed into his ears.
"Oh, God, pet, that's not what I mean. I mean, God, yes, I like - see?" he took her hand and placed it on his crotch, showing her exactly how much he liked her little 'surprise'. "But, I mean, do we have to go to dinner? I could just tell the bloke to turn round and take us home now," Spike said, not caring the slightly whiny tone to his voice.
"No. You said you'd take me out and we're going out. Just thought I'd make things a little more interesting, that's all."
"You're killing me, Summers."
The only reply Spike got to his comment was a smug little smile as Buffy withdrew to the far side of the back seat and carefully crossed her legs.
Spike gulped - it was going to be a long night.
Spike watched as Buffy picked at her meal. After the agony of the taxi ride, they'd arrived at the incredibly upmarket restaurant - it was costing Spike much more than he could realistically afford to be here tonight - and Buffy had spent the first part of the meal gently teasing him with promises of what was to come when they got home.
But then she'd fallen quiet. Spike wasn't sure what had caused this sudden change in mood, but he knew that he was currently looking at meditative- Buffy. The girl was most definitely lost in her thoughts, pushing the food around her plate almost as if she didn't see it.
She sighed softly to herself and looked up at him, nervously chewing at her bottom lip. Spike raised an eyebrow softly and tilted his head to the left, waiting for her to speak.
She took a deep breath. "What is this?" she asked him gently.
"It's duck, pet. I think the menu said pan-fried duck in a red currant sauce with some kind of juice or something. But it's definitely duck."
She scowled at him. "That's not what I meant. I meant, what is this?" she indicated the two of them. "What's going on? What is this?"
"Oh." Spike was silent for a moment, wondering how to answer that one. He didn't know what they had between them. He definitely knew what he wanted there to be between them, but he was fairly sure that wasn't what she wanted to hear right now. He finally decided to play it safe. "What do you want it to be?" he asked, throwing the ball firmly back into her court.
Buffy went back to playing with her food, not looking at him.
"I can't give you a relationship, if that's what you want," she said quietly. Spike said nothing, waiting for her to continue. "I was with Riley for so long. When we broke up, I felt like I was coming out of a dream. I wasn't sure of where I was - kinda disorientated. I need to know who I am, without all the confusing boyfriend stuff. I can't commit to another relationship right now." She sounded almost apologetic and she wouldn't meet his eyes.
Spike smiled softly. None of this was news to him. She hadn't needed to explain it - he'd known where he stood and known why she couldn't give more. He knew her better than she thought he did. "That's alright pet, never expected anything more. Just promise me one thing."
She looked up at him, surprised by his immediate understanding - she'd thought that he would complain, try to talk her round. She'd had this determined argument all mapped out in her head and everything. "What thing?"
"Promise me I'll never be the other man. This thing we have - whatever it is - it stops if either of us has anyone else. Serious like. I'm not asking you to be faithful to me or anything," he quickly clarified. "But, if you get a boyfriend, or I get a girlfriend," - Like that's gonna happen. Wouldn't want anyone else - "this stops. 'K?"
"Sure," Buffy agreed, relieved that it was something she could so readily consent to. She quickly pushed down the sickening feeling that appeared as she thought about Spike with another woman. He's not mine. I have no right to feel... jealous? No, that's not jealous, it's, well, not jealousy, she thought emphatically to herself as she took another gulp of wine. Instead she smiled wickedly and slipped off one of her shoes, reaching out with her bare foot to run a toe up the inside of Spike's leg.
He gasped and moaned slightly as her foot travelled up above his knee and rested in his lap. She smiled and indicated that he should keep quiet as she started moving her foot in delicate circles.
He nodded and tried to look as if he was enjoying his meal as he watched Buffy managing to eat each mouthful of hers in what was possibly the most erotic fashion he'd ever seen. She seemed to savour each mouthful and the things her foot was doing under the tablecloth made Spike wonder if he could control himself much longer. He put down his fork and indicated to the waiter.
"Em, we've, er, aah, finished. Erm, aah, could we, aah, have the bill please?" he asked, barely managing to keep his voice steady. Across the table, Buffy's face was a picture of innocence as she put down her fork and dabbed demurely at the corners of her mouth with the napkin.
"Oh, and I was sooo looking forward to dessert too," she complained as the waiter hurried off for their bill.
"You can have dessert at home, pet. I promise.
Spike wrenched the door of his flat open and not for the first time sent a prayer of thanks to whatever deity might be out there that he lived along.
Buffy danced through the door and into the kitchen, shedding clothes as she went, leaving Spike speechless with want as he hurried after her.
"Dessert, dessert. You must have something here that passes for dessert," she complained as she rifled through his freezer, bare behind wriggling delightfully, in Spike's opinion.
He walked up behind her. "Oh, I think I see something just perfect," he purred as he stroked the globes of her arse.
"Me too!" she exclaimed as she suddenly stood upright, brandishing a tub of chocolate ice cream.
"But pet, I wanted to play," he moaned as she walked over to get a spoon out of the drawer."
Buffy perched on the worktop and lifted the lid of the pot before carving out a small scoop of the cold substance. "Oh, we can play..." she promised as she lowered the spoon and deposited the ice cream onto her left breast.
Spike's eyes lit up as he quickly made his way towards her.
He eagerly lowered his head to her breast and proceeded to lick every last bit of the chocolately goodness off her, leaving her moaning in pleasure.
"More?" he asked hopefully, with almost childlike enthusiasm. He looked up at her with such big blue eyes that she was unable to resist - even if she'd actually wanted to. She deftly coated her breasts with more of the quickly melting ice cream and lay back on the worktop.
She moaned with pleasure as he once again licked her breast clean, devoting more time than was strictly necessary to making sure her nipples were perfectly spotless. By the time he had finished his ministrations, Buffy was writhing around underneath him in pleasure.
He picked up the ice cream tub and held it where she could see it.
"More?" he asked, invitingly.
"God, yes!" she moaned, a look of pure lust and want on her face.
"Who am I to refuse a lady?" he asked as he dribbled the now almost completely liquid solution over her body.
She gasped as she felt the liquid hit. From her position lying on the worktop, she couldn't actually see where he was going to drizzle the substance and the sheer eroticism of the cold unexpectedly touching her was driving her wild.
Once he was happy with the placement of the ice cream, Spike stood back to look at his handiwork. Buffy was laid out on the counter, her body covered in a lacework of melted ice cream and nothing else. He licked his lips - she truly did look stunning there just like that and he took a moment to commit the image to memory, intent on remembering it for the rest of his life.
For Buffy, the moments from when he'd finished trailing ice cream on her to when he finally came back were torture. Sweet, pleasant torture that ripped through her body and headed straight between her legs. Her breaths were ragged and uneven, her chest heaving and she couldn't help squirming on the worktop. And he's hardly even touched me yet! she thought to herself just before his mouth touched her body once more.
His talented tongue travelled across her body with almost agonising slowness, persistently ignoring her attempts to direct it to where she most wanted to feel him.
"Please, Spike..." she moaned, willingly begging him, to no avail. He lifted his head momentarily from her form to flash her one of his irritating smirks before descending once more to continue his attentions.
Finally he gave in and her moans came thicker and faster as she felt herself approaching climax. "Oh, God Spike, oh God - don't stop. God please don't stop. Oh, yes, right there - just like that. God yeah, just like that." Her words descended into unintelligible mutterings until she felt her orgasm crash over her in a wave and she buried her hands in Spike's hair to hold him against her as she rode it.
As she came down, Spike moved back up her body, satisfied smile on his face as he watched her stretch languidly. "Satisfied, pet?"
"Already? You have to be kidding me!" she exclaimed. "I'm just getting started!"
"That's fine by me." He looked down at her. "You know, I've always had this fantasy of taking you right here."
"You have?" Buffy asked, interestedly, his suggestion hotwiring straight to her centre.
"Yes, I have," he said, swinging her legs round so that she was lying with only the upper half of her body on the worktop. He positioned himself between her legs and Buffy moaned as she felt him against her.
"Do you like that idea?" he teased.
"Yes, I like. I like a lot!" she gasped, shifting her position slightly.
Spike smiled and thrust suddenly forward, gasping with pleasure as he entered her. She wrapped her legs around his torso and began to move with him, building up a steady rhythm. He placed one hand by her head to balance himself as they moved more forcefully together.
"Oh, Buffy, you feel so good, pet. You're so beautiful. Perfect. Lovely. You're..." Spike trailed off as he moaned with pleasure and looked at her, trying to convey all the emotion he couldn't put into words through that one gaze.
Buffy couldn't take her eyes off his face, off the intensity of his gaze, it was as though she really could see through him to his soul and here, in this moment, she wasn't afraid of anything that she might see there. She could accept the intensity of his emotions in a way that she denied herself at all other times. Right here, right now it all just made her feel more. More wanted, more special, more loved.
"Spike!" she breathed almost with awe as he once again sent her crashing over the edge again and this time followed her over, calling out her name.
He slumped against her, peppering her face with tiny kisses, whispering her name over and over. She lay there for a second, enjoying the attention before she realised that breathing now would be a bonus.
"Er, Spike? Kinda getting crushed a little here..."
"Sorry, pet." He quickly moved off her and helped her down from the worktop. They both looked back at it.
"Well, that was..." Spike started.
"Amazing?" Buffy provided.
"I was going for incredible, myself - but amazing would do it as well!"
"That's alright then. How about we continue this somewhere a little more comfortable? Say, in bed?" She suggested as she lead the way out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom. Spike merely smiled and willingly followed her.
"You ready? The taxi's here..." Spike called from the living room. Buffy appeared at the bedroom door with a smile.
"Of course I'm ready - why wouldn't I be?" she asked sweetly, twirling a lock of her long blonde hair round a finger in an ultra-sweet manner and smiling coyly. Spike's jaw dropped as he took in the vision standing before him. No matter how long he knew her, she would never stop astounding him with how beautiful she was, and tonight was no exception.
After the shock of earlier, the two had returned home and spent a few hours lying on the sofa watching lame Saturday afternoon programming and trying not to think about anything too hard. The treatment seemed to have worked and Buffy had calmed down quickly and declared that her 'scare' had been 'one of those things' and that she was 'over it'. Spike hadn't been convinced at first, his natural over-protective instinct kicking in, but she'd drawn the line when he'd tried to provide an ice-pack for the back of her neck and he'd wisely decided to let the subject drop.
And she certainly looked as if she was over it. The short, black dress she was wearing followed the line of her petite body perfectly, emphasising her curves in a way Spike could fully appreciate. The square-cut neckline revealed a tantalising amount of cleavage, still surprisingly tanned despite the months spent in a colder and definitely less sunny climate.
Spike's gaze wandered down her form to where the dress ended at mid-thigh revealing her toned and perfect legs. He swallowed and wrenched his stare back up to her face.
She smiled and tossed her long golden locks over her shoulder. "Do I look all right?" she asked in that tome that girls use when they know they look great, but just want to make a guy say it. She smiled knowingly at him.
"Y-you look..." he trailed off and gathered himself. "S'pose you look all right," he ended nonchalantly, before breaking into a grin when her face fell. "Come on, pet - you know you're stunning. You don't need me to tell you that. Anyway, taxi's waiting, we'll be late." He indicated the door and she flounced past him and into the waiting taxi, pretending to be mad at him.
The pretence didn't last long as she caught him trying to hold back the laughter and soon they were both seated in the back of the taxi, giggling at each other.
Spike gave the taxi driver the address of the restaurant and they both settled down as the taxi pulled off.
Spike stared out of the window and watched the dark streets pass by. He jumped slightly as he felt Buffy's warm breath on the back of his neck. He turned his head to see that she had scooted up against him, her head resting on his shoulder.
"Can I tell you a secret?" she asked coyly.
"Of course you can, pet."
"You promise not to tell anyone...?"
"Promise."
She bit her lip and lowered her gaze for a moment before reaching over to whisper in his ear. "I'm not wearing any panties."
Spike coughed and suddenly sat up straight, hitting his head on the low ceiling of the car. "Pardon?" he asked, wondering if he'd heard her right.
Buffy smiled and threw a glance at the driver. Once she was confident he wasn't watching them, she discreetly took hold of Spike's hand and drew it towards her. Spike watched almost in awe as she parted her legs slightly and allowed him to run his hand slowly up her thigh. He moaned quietly as his knuckles brushed the hair at the apex of her legs and he bit his lip softly.
"God, pet. You can't do this to me," he complained softly into her ear as he gently explored further, still not quite believing that this girl would willingly leave the house in a short skirt and without any underwear.
"Why not - don't you like my surprise?" she breathed into his ears.
"Oh, God, pet, that's not what I mean. I mean, God, yes, I like - see?" he took her hand and placed it on his crotch, showing her exactly how much he liked her little 'surprise'. "But, I mean, do we have to go to dinner? I could just tell the bloke to turn round and take us home now," Spike said, not caring the slightly whiny tone to his voice.
"No. You said you'd take me out and we're going out. Just thought I'd make things a little more interesting, that's all."
"You're killing me, Summers."
The only reply Spike got to his comment was a smug little smile as Buffy withdrew to the far side of the back seat and carefully crossed her legs.
Spike gulped - it was going to be a long night.
Spike watched as Buffy picked at her meal. After the agony of the taxi ride, they'd arrived at the incredibly upmarket restaurant - it was costing Spike much more than he could realistically afford to be here tonight - and Buffy had spent the first part of the meal gently teasing him with promises of what was to come when they got home.
But then she'd fallen quiet. Spike wasn't sure what had caused this sudden change in mood, but he knew that he was currently looking at meditative- Buffy. The girl was most definitely lost in her thoughts, pushing the food around her plate almost as if she didn't see it.
She sighed softly to herself and looked up at him, nervously chewing at her bottom lip. Spike raised an eyebrow softly and tilted his head to the left, waiting for her to speak.
She took a deep breath. "What is this?" she asked him gently.
"It's duck, pet. I think the menu said pan-fried duck in a red currant sauce with some kind of juice or something. But it's definitely duck."
She scowled at him. "That's not what I meant. I meant, what is this?" she indicated the two of them. "What's going on? What is this?"
"Oh." Spike was silent for a moment, wondering how to answer that one. He didn't know what they had between them. He definitely knew what he wanted there to be between them, but he was fairly sure that wasn't what she wanted to hear right now. He finally decided to play it safe. "What do you want it to be?" he asked, throwing the ball firmly back into her court.
Buffy went back to playing with her food, not looking at him.
"I can't give you a relationship, if that's what you want," she said quietly. Spike said nothing, waiting for her to continue. "I was with Riley for so long. When we broke up, I felt like I was coming out of a dream. I wasn't sure of where I was - kinda disorientated. I need to know who I am, without all the confusing boyfriend stuff. I can't commit to another relationship right now." She sounded almost apologetic and she wouldn't meet his eyes.
Spike smiled softly. None of this was news to him. She hadn't needed to explain it - he'd known where he stood and known why she couldn't give more. He knew her better than she thought he did. "That's alright pet, never expected anything more. Just promise me one thing."
She looked up at him, surprised by his immediate understanding - she'd thought that he would complain, try to talk her round. She'd had this determined argument all mapped out in her head and everything. "What thing?"
"Promise me I'll never be the other man. This thing we have - whatever it is - it stops if either of us has anyone else. Serious like. I'm not asking you to be faithful to me or anything," he quickly clarified. "But, if you get a boyfriend, or I get a girlfriend," - Like that's gonna happen. Wouldn't want anyone else - "this stops. 'K?"
"Sure," Buffy agreed, relieved that it was something she could so readily consent to. She quickly pushed down the sickening feeling that appeared as she thought about Spike with another woman. He's not mine. I have no right to feel... jealous? No, that's not jealous, it's, well, not jealousy, she thought emphatically to herself as she took another gulp of wine. Instead she smiled wickedly and slipped off one of her shoes, reaching out with her bare foot to run a toe up the inside of Spike's leg.
He gasped and moaned slightly as her foot travelled up above his knee and rested in his lap. She smiled and indicated that he should keep quiet as she started moving her foot in delicate circles.
He nodded and tried to look as if he was enjoying his meal as he watched Buffy managing to eat each mouthful of hers in what was possibly the most erotic fashion he'd ever seen. She seemed to savour each mouthful and the things her foot was doing under the tablecloth made Spike wonder if he could control himself much longer. He put down his fork and indicated to the waiter.
"Em, we've, er, aah, finished. Erm, aah, could we, aah, have the bill please?" he asked, barely managing to keep his voice steady. Across the table, Buffy's face was a picture of innocence as she put down her fork and dabbed demurely at the corners of her mouth with the napkin.
"Oh, and I was sooo looking forward to dessert too," she complained as the waiter hurried off for their bill.
"You can have dessert at home, pet. I promise.
Spike wrenched the door of his flat open and not for the first time sent a prayer of thanks to whatever deity might be out there that he lived along.
Buffy danced through the door and into the kitchen, shedding clothes as she went, leaving Spike speechless with want as he hurried after her.
"Dessert, dessert. You must have something here that passes for dessert," she complained as she rifled through his freezer, bare behind wriggling delightfully, in Spike's opinion.
He walked up behind her. "Oh, I think I see something just perfect," he purred as he stroked the globes of her arse.
"Me too!" she exclaimed as she suddenly stood upright, brandishing a tub of chocolate ice cream.
"But pet, I wanted to play," he moaned as she walked over to get a spoon out of the drawer."
Buffy perched on the worktop and lifted the lid of the pot before carving out a small scoop of the cold substance. "Oh, we can play..." she promised as she lowered the spoon and deposited the ice cream onto her left breast.
Spike's eyes lit up as he quickly made his way towards her.
He eagerly lowered his head to her breast and proceeded to lick every last bit of the chocolately goodness off her, leaving her moaning in pleasure.
"More?" he asked hopefully, with almost childlike enthusiasm. He looked up at her with such big blue eyes that she was unable to resist - even if she'd actually wanted to. She deftly coated her breasts with more of the quickly melting ice cream and lay back on the worktop.
She moaned with pleasure as he once again licked her breast clean, devoting more time than was strictly necessary to making sure her nipples were perfectly spotless. By the time he had finished his ministrations, Buffy was writhing around underneath him in pleasure.
He picked up the ice cream tub and held it where she could see it.
"More?" he asked, invitingly.
"God, yes!" she moaned, a look of pure lust and want on her face.
"Who am I to refuse a lady?" he asked as he dribbled the now almost completely liquid solution over her body.
She gasped as she felt the liquid hit. From her position lying on the worktop, she couldn't actually see where he was going to drizzle the substance and the sheer eroticism of the cold unexpectedly touching her was driving her wild.
Once he was happy with the placement of the ice cream, Spike stood back to look at his handiwork. Buffy was laid out on the counter, her body covered in a lacework of melted ice cream and nothing else. He licked his lips - she truly did look stunning there just like that and he took a moment to commit the image to memory, intent on remembering it for the rest of his life.
For Buffy, the moments from when he'd finished trailing ice cream on her to when he finally came back were torture. Sweet, pleasant torture that ripped through her body and headed straight between her legs. Her breaths were ragged and uneven, her chest heaving and she couldn't help squirming on the worktop. And he's hardly even touched me yet! she thought to herself just before his mouth touched her body once more.
His talented tongue travelled across her body with almost agonising slowness, persistently ignoring her attempts to direct it to where she most wanted to feel him.
"Please, Spike..." she moaned, willingly begging him, to no avail. He lifted his head momentarily from her form to flash her one of his irritating smirks before descending once more to continue his attentions.
Finally he gave in and her moans came thicker and faster as she felt herself approaching climax. "Oh, God Spike, oh God - don't stop. God please don't stop. Oh, yes, right there - just like that. God yeah, just like that." Her words descended into unintelligible mutterings until she felt her orgasm crash over her in a wave and she buried her hands in Spike's hair to hold him against her as she rode it.
As she came down, Spike moved back up her body, satisfied smile on his face as he watched her stretch languidly. "Satisfied, pet?"
"Already? You have to be kidding me!" she exclaimed. "I'm just getting started!"
"That's fine by me." He looked down at her. "You know, I've always had this fantasy of taking you right here."
"You have?" Buffy asked, interestedly, his suggestion hotwiring straight to her centre.
"Yes, I have," he said, swinging her legs round so that she was lying with only the upper half of her body on the worktop. He positioned himself between her legs and Buffy moaned as she felt him against her.
"Do you like that idea?" he teased.
"Yes, I like. I like a lot!" she gasped, shifting her position slightly.
Spike smiled and thrust suddenly forward, gasping with pleasure as he entered her. She wrapped her legs around his torso and began to move with him, building up a steady rhythm. He placed one hand by her head to balance himself as they moved more forcefully together.
"Oh, Buffy, you feel so good, pet. You're so beautiful. Perfect. Lovely. You're..." Spike trailed off as he moaned with pleasure and looked at her, trying to convey all the emotion he couldn't put into words through that one gaze.
Buffy couldn't take her eyes off his face, off the intensity of his gaze, it was as though she really could see through him to his soul and here, in this moment, she wasn't afraid of anything that she might see there. She could accept the intensity of his emotions in a way that she denied herself at all other times. Right here, right now it all just made her feel more. More wanted, more special, more loved.
"Spike!" she breathed almost with awe as he once again sent her crashing over the edge again and this time followed her over, calling out her name.
He slumped against her, peppering her face with tiny kisses, whispering her name over and over. She lay there for a second, enjoying the attention before she realised that breathing now would be a bonus.
"Er, Spike? Kinda getting crushed a little here..."
"Sorry, pet." He quickly moved off her and helped her down from the worktop. They both looked back at it.
"Well, that was..." Spike started.
"Amazing?" Buffy provided.
"I was going for incredible, myself - but amazing would do it as well!"
"That's alright then. How about we continue this somewhere a little more comfortable? Say, in bed?" She suggested as she lead the way out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom. Spike merely smiled and willingly followed her.