Chapter 6
A storm in the form of a girl.’ For the first time the phrase seemed to make perfect sense in his mind. It was the only sentence that could come close to describing the furious creature lying underneath him with large blazing eyes, flushed cheeks as she pulled harsh pants from her small lungs.
They stared at each other in silence. Buffy tried to speak immediately but couldn’t when she felt the strangest sensation in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed hard and tried to ignore it as she started her rambling:
“You just added assault to breaking and entering bleach-boy. I don’t know how it works in the Motherland, but in America you can’t just go around-“
“What are you talking about?” He cut off her mini-speech, still a bit dazed. “You hit me.” He glanced away from her for the first time, eyeing the fallen jug as he continued: “That bloody thing could have killed me. What’s wrong with you?”
“What is wrong with *me*? You break into my apartment-“
“Break in? I didn’t break in.” He insisted.
“Right. Then what do you call walking into a stranger’s house uninvited?” She asked sarcastically.
“I was invited.”
“By who?”
“By whom, luv.” He corrected, rolling his eyes for a second. “Will you Americans ever quit butchering the English language?”
“What? I’m getting grammar lessons from a thief?” Buffy huffed.
“I’m not a thief! I was invited. And as far as I know you’re the one breaking in.” He countered.
“Of course! Cause everyone knows that the cat suit is totally out of date and the proper outfit for breaking and entering is a single white *towel*.” She retorted throwing a sarcastic glance downward to emphasize her lack of clothing.
“Oh.” He mumbled eyeing her heaving chest.
“Hey! What are you doing?” She bucked under him trying to divert his attention from her barely covered breasts.
“Sorry, luv.” He apologized unconvincingly as he leered at her but not before throwing one last quick glance down south.
There was an awkward silence between them as they stared at one another.
“So… you mind getting off?” She finally asked giving him an annoyed look.
‘With you? Anytime.’ His mind immediately replied, but instead, he opted for:
“If I let you go, do you promise not to hit me over the head again?”
She nodded, setting her mouth in a straight line.
Slowly, he let go of her arms and placed his hands on either side of her head, raising his body off of hers. Before he could get up, she scrambled out from under him and stumbled to her feet, awkwardly gathering up the towel around her.
With one free hand she batted away the hair that insisted on falling over her face and watched as the stranger slowly stood up.
“Let’s try this again. If you’re not a burglar, what are you doing here?” She started with both hands clutching the towel closer to her chest.
“Harm let me in.” He replied.
“Harm?”
“Yeah. Blonde, about this tall, overly-cheerful, not too bright.” He described.
“Harmony?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Oh! You’re boink-boy.” Buffy realised, her eyes widening.
“What?” He frowned at that.
“Nothing.” She said dismissively shaking her head. “So you’re Stick.”
“Huh?” He raised his eyebrow and Buffy noticed a long scar running through it.
“Thorn?” She tried but his confused expression remained. “Spear? Um… Pin? Nail?”
“Spike.” He cut her off when he finally realised what she was doing.
“Right.” She nodded eyeing him. ‘So this is Harmony’s insatiable sex-toy.’ Her eyes wandered enquiringly. ‘He doesn’t look *that* big to me.’ She thought taking in his short stature. Her gaze travelled over his body before settling over his crotch; her attentions being diverted from the conversation taking place.
She shook her head when she realised the silence had gone on a little too long and looked up to find him gawking at her exposed legs.
“Hey!” She protested pulling at the towel so she could cover her thighs and consequentially causing it to come undone at the top. “Ah!” She yelped catching the material just in the nick of time.
She shot him a murderous look when she recognised the expectation on his face.
“Stop looking at me like that.” She ordered.
“Like what?” He questioned cocking up his scarred eyebrow once more while his tongue traced his teeth.
“Ugh!” She said disgusted when she looked at him.
“Well, seems only fair since you were eyeing the family jewels just a second ago.” He replied with a smug grin.
“Huh?” She muttered with a confused frown over her perfect eyebrows as she continued to struggle with the small towel.
When he shoved his hand into the front pockets of his jeans and thrust his hips forward her eyes widened in realisation:
“Excuse me?!” She started outraged. “I wasn’t eyeing any… family jewels.” She assured him, shaking her head vehemently.
“Right.” He replied unconvinced. “Whatever you say, luv.”
Narrowing her eyes at him, she decided to let the subject go; her attentions returning to her state of undress as one hand remained over her chest while the other continued to try and stretch the towel downwards. She let out a frustrated groan when she failed. Huffing noisily she blew her dishevelled hair off her face as she hopped her way to stand behind the couch; finally solving her dilemma.
Raising her chin high, she looked down on him even though she was shorter than him; the couch the only thing separating the two.
“Well, Harmony’s not here. And I don’t know when she’s coming back so-” She started haughtily but he cut her off:
“I know. She just left a few minutes ago. We ran out of Johnny-bags.” He said, digging through the pockets of his jeans.
“Huh?” She frowned.
“Condoms, luv. She went to get some.” He explained tilting his head sideways as he seemed to have found what he was looking for.
‘How gentlemanlike of you.’ She was about to reply when she saw the cigarette dangling from his mouth.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” She protested.
The flame from the lighter stopped inches from the cigarette.
“What?” He asked, his gaze leaving the rolled paper to look at her.
“There’s no smoking in here.”
“Come again, luv?” He questioned once more, letting the Zippo’s cap fall back into place and extinguishing the flame.
“You can’t smoke in here.” She insisted throwing him a threatening glance.
“You’re kidding, right.” He mumbled; the cigarette hanging off this mouth moving in accordance with his lips.
“No.” She said emphatically, hugging the towel against her as she started to move. “And now if you’ll excuse me…”
She trailed off, quickly making her way around the couch and across the living room with small and fast steps but came to a halt when he called out:
“Hey, didn’t catch your name, luv.”
She turned around to face him and she had to stop her eyebrows from furrowing in disgust when she caught him openly staring at her legs. She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the strange flip-flopping of her stomach.
“Buffy.” She mumbled, turning around almost robotically and practically sprinted out of the room, slamming the bathroom door closed when she reached it.
She leaned on the wood, inhaling sharply, letting her eyelids fall shut. Breathing deeply, she pushed herself off the structure and, before she could stop herself, she had the door half open and was peeking out. It lasted a fraction of a second as her eyes met the stranger’s and she once more slammed the door closed.
“Freak.” She muttered, walking over to the bathtub and turning on the hot water.
~+~
Spike’s gaze remained on the closed door; his mind racing as it replayed what had just happened in the room.
“Buffy…” He mumbled, trying to ignore the way his stomach was flip-flopping at the fresh memory of her scent.
“Spike-y!”
Harmony’s sharp voice snapped him out of his daze. Shaking his head, he turned to look at her.
“Hey.” He replied unenthusiastically as he eyed the cheerful blonde that had just entered the apartment.
“I’ve got them.” She purred in what sounded like a weird attempt to sound sexy.
“Uh?” For some reason his gaze had returned to the closed door at the end of the corridor.
“The condoms, silly.” She explained.
Suddenly, Spike found himself buried in a mountain of blonde hair, strong arms gripping him as Harmony dangled herself off his neck.
“Oh. Great.” He replied numbly just before her lips assaulted his.
Slowly, but surely, the image of the tiny blonde wrapped in a towel drifted into the back of his mind as his body reacted to the one attacking his.
He growled and swung her off her feet and carried her to the bedroom.
~+~
“God, yes, God yes!” Harmony’s screams carried easily through the wall that separated their rooms.
“Ok, that’s it!” Buffy grumbled, suddenly hopping out of bed in a fit of rage. “I gotta get out of here.”
She walked over to her closet took out the first couple of shirts she could find and shoved them into a backpack. Next were the socks and underwear and not much else. She slipped into her shoes after throwing on a sweater and the nearest available jeans. In three minutes flat she was dressed and had her bag ready.
She stopped for a second scanning the room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything.
“My purse…” She realised, walking over to her desk and picking it up.
With a loud bang, she slammed the door to her room shut. The thunderous sound stopped Harmony’s orgasmic chanting for a whole three seconds before it restarted:
“Don’t stop, don’t stop… Ah! So good!”
Buffy growled at that, turning the key and locking her door before pounding her way across the hall, living room and exiting the apartment.
~+~
“Buffy? Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me mom.” Buffy announced tiredly as she dropped her backpack on the floor on her way into the kitchen.
“What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming over this weekend.” Mrs. Summers wondered, before pausing her dishwashing to kiss her eldest on the cheek.
“I know. I just had to get out of that apartment.” She sighed, leaning on the counter while her mother resumed washing the plates.
“Is something wrong with the apartment? I thought you said it was perfect.” Mrs. Summers said a bit worried.
“It’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with the apartment itself. My problem is the roommate from hell.” She grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.
“H-Harmony, right?” Joyce asked, wiping her hands on the towel and turning to face her daughter.
“Yeah. Her and boink-boy.”
“Huh?” Mrs. Summers frowned.
“Nothing. It’s fine.” Buffy shook her head trying to erase the sudden flash of the bleached man hovering over her. “Nothing I can’t handle.” Buffy assured her before changing the subject: “Where’s Dawn?”
“At Janice’s.”
“Again? She spends more time over there than here.”
“I know. But what can I do…”
“Tell her she can’t.” Buffy widened her eyes at the obvious resolution to the problem.
“Oh, Buffy. Stop picking on your sister. You used to sleep over at Willow’s all the time when you were her age.” Joyce countered, coming to hug her daughter. “Now tell me, how’s college?”
“Painfully incomprehensible?” Buffy offered with a desperate frown which earned her a chuckle from her mother as the two walked into the living room and sat on the couch.
“It can’t be that bad, honey.”
“Trust me. It is. Every time I walk into a classroom I feel like my IQ just dropped 20 points.” She mumbled.
“That’s normal. You just have to relax and take the time to adjust to the new environment.” Joyce offered.
“I can’t relax! That’s the point. Not with Harmony around.” Buffy sighed once more. “She’s either listening to loud music, or singing in the shower, or eating my food…” She trailed off as the anger started to build in her. “I left Willow’s cup-a-soup in the cupboard. You can bet it’s gonna be gone by Monday.”
“Willow brought you cup-a-soup?”
“Yeah, I was kinda sick this week.”
Mrs. Summers’ facial expression showed immediate concern.
“You were sick? Honey, are you alright?” Her hand instinctively went for her daughter’s forehead.
“I’m fine, mom.” Buffy assured her, rolling her eyes when her mother’s lips replaced her hand on her forehead. “I didn’t even get a fever. I’m fine.” At Mrs. Summers’ sceptical glance she added: “Really!”
“You have to be careful, honey. I told you that you should take your thicker sweaters with you.”
“I will. Don’t worry.” Buffy mumbled with a half-smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It was good to be home and having her mother pampering her.
“Now, about this problem with Harmony … have you tried talking to her about it?”
“How?!” Buffy exclaimed. “Either she’s out partying or she’s eternally getting ready for going out and using up all the hot water in the process.”
As she spoke she felt her blood start to boil; the memories of only one week of hell flooding her mind. She cringed at the prospect of a whole year of that torture. Buffy exhaled sharply and crossed her arms over her chest.
“You have to find a way to sit her down and solve this.” Joyce insisted.
“I know… I’ll do that.” She paused. “On Monday.” She added, leaning in to rest her head on her mother’s lap. “Now all I want to do is sleep.”
“Poor thing.” Mrs Summer’s mumbled, running her fingers through her daughter’s locks.
~+~
The weekend flew by and soon Buffy found herself at the entrance to her apartment once again, with her backpack, her purse and one larger handbag filled with winter clothes. With a sigh, she fit the key into the lock and opened the door.
“Harmony?” She called out, stumbling over the amount of bags she carried. “Good, she’s not home.” She glanced at her watch. It read ten pm. “Probably out partying.” Buffy reasoned, kicking the door closed with her heel and entering the apartment.
She made her way into her bedroom, dropping her things before she headed for the bathroom and turned on the hot water.
After a quick shower, she was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, towel wrapped around her chest, brushing her hair as she blow-dried it. When she was done, she returned to her room, put on of her nightgown and slipped between the sheets, silently praying for a peaceful night of sleep.
Two hours later…
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“More! More! More! Oh, Spike!”
“I’m gonna kill her.” She growled before covering her head with her pillow.