Chapter 13
“Buffy, are you ok?” Spike heard a worried voice ask.
He held his breath, drawing himself nearer to Buffy’s now trembling form as the sound of footsteps let him know that Mrs. Summers was coming into the room.
Buffy froze, her stomach seemed intent on doing those distracting flip-flops as she felt his body cling to her form.
“I-I’m fine!” she managed to say in a nervous stutter.
“I heard a noise. What happened?” Mrs. Summers enquired taking a seat on the mattress next to her daughter.
The teen swallowed hard, her mind a haze as her heart raced in her chest and her hands became sweaty.
“N-Nothing happened. Must have been from outside.” She answered tilting her head towards the window.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eyes, she caught a glimpse of red on her table. ‘Oh my God! The cigarettes!’ Her mind screamed at her as she watched her mom get up and walk over to the opened window.
“Mom!” She instinctively shouted.
Mrs. Summers stopped in her tracks and turned to face her child.
“What, honey?”
“Leave the window open, I’m kinda hot.” She made up the excuse in a moments notice.
In the meantime, Spike remained frozen under the covers. His bare chest glued to Buffy’s right thigh, his legs twisted around the rest of her leg, positioning her foot in a very, very awkward place. His arms wound around her waist while his head rested on her partially bare stomach.
“You’re not coming down with something, are you?” A concerned Mrs. Summers asked walking back over to the bed and placing her hand on Buffy’s forehead.
“You do feel kind of warm…”
“I’m fine!” She piped up nervously. “I-I’m fine.” She repeated with a little less anxiety.
“Are you sure?”
Buffy felt Spike move under the covers, his hand brushing over the inside of her thigh as he tried to make himself a little more comfortable. It took all of her strength to keep from gasping, her facial muscles contorting as she tried to repress the urge. Her mind seemed to drift for a second. All she could think about was that she had a semi naked boy in her bed, clinging to her right leg under the covers.
“Buffy?”
Her mother’s voice finally seemed to penetrate the thick fog surrounding her brain.
“Ah! What?!” She mumbled as she was snapped out of her daze.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to get you anything?” Mrs. Summers repeated.
“I’m sure, mom. I’m fine.” The last word came out in a high-pitch tone as she felt his warm breath on her stomach.
She closed her eyes to prevent her mom from seeing her rolling them back in their sockets.
Under the covers, Spike tried to push back the little voice in his head that beckoned him to touch her or maybe just to brush his lips over the exposed flesh of her lean stomach, just once… ‘Concentrate, concentrate…’ He kept repeating in his thoughts not realising he was starting to pant.
Buffy thanked whatever gods there were out there that her mother had her back turned to her when Spike’s breath became more evident on her tummy. She tried to repress the urge to move abruptly, but eventually ended up wiggling her toes in the process.
Spike’s eyes widened as he felt something quickly brush over his groin and couldn’t help letting out a deep groan.
Buffy froze when she felt something hard against her toes.
“What was that, honey?” Mrs. Summers stopped at the door and turned to face her daughter.
“Um… I-I said: Goodnight, mom!” Buffy lied.
With a soft smile, Mrs. Summers turned the knob, opening the door. Before she exited the room, she whispered:
“Goodnight, honey.”
And she was gone.
Buffy and Spike remained frozen in place until they heard the clicking sound of another door opening and closing. Complete silence filled the room only broken by the quick and short pants coming from the petite blonde.
She held her breath as she felt him crawl his way from under the covers, his arm lightly gliding across hers.
“That was close.” He breathed sitting next to her, on the bed, his legs still under the sheets.
She stared wide eyed at him, sometimes daring to throw a glance at his bare chest.
“Are you ok, luv?” He finally asked.
Then, something unexpected happened. Actually, considering it was Buffy, it wasn’t unexpected at all. She brusquely pulled at the sheets, shoving him off the bed with her shoulder, causing him to topple off the mattress onto the floor.
“Hey!” He protested.
“Stay out of my bed!” She hissed in a low voice, careful not to wake her mother once again.
The Brit remained on the floor, staring wide eyed at the petite blonde who looked back at him with a defiant chin jutting out.
Anger flashed in his eyes as he got up and grabbed the edge of the covers and pulled them off her, then proceeded by snagging one of Buffy’s pillows.
“I get the covers.” He said laying down on the floor next to her bed and pulling the sheets over himself while he rested his head on the pillow.
Without a word she got up and snatched the covers from him, setting them on the bed.
“Those are mine, I’ll get you something else.” She explained as she turned on the light and opened her wardrobe.
She looked through it for a few second and grabbed something. Walking back to him, she dropped them on his lap.
“There.” She grumbled, climbing onto the bed and covering herself.
“Are you kidding me? Scooby-Doo sheets?” The Brit protested in a low voice.
“It’s all I’ve got. My mom keeps the covers in a cupboard in the hall.” She explained as she closed her eyes and turned her back to him.
Reluctantly, he picked up the sheets. He gasped when he spread them out. They were miniscule, reaching as high as his waist. If he wanted to cover his shoulders he would have to keep his feet in the cold or the other way around.
“Bloody hell! This thing’s baby sized.” He complained.
“What did you expect? Those were my sheets when I was a kid.” She grumbled never bothering to face him.
“Bugger all!” He grumbled as he covered his legs with the small fabric.
A few moments of silence managed to filter between them before Spike’s whispering voice was heard:
“Are you still up, Betty?”
“It’s BUFFY!” She hissed between clenched teeth.
“Sorry.” He said with little conviction.
Silence.
“Buffy…” He called again.
“What?” She grumbled.
“What do we do about tomorrow?” He enquired as he stared up at the ceiling, his hands resting on the back of his neck as he laid on his back.
“What about tomorrow?” She replied with an annoyed tone.
“You’re mom, if she walks in… won’t be a pretty sight.”
“I’ve set the alarm. We wake up before she does, wait till she’s out of the house and then we can leave and end this nightmare. By the way, you are never setting foot in my house ever again.” She grumbled, her back still turned to him.
Minutes later…
“Buffy…”
“Spike?” She mumbled.
“Yeah?”
“Go to sleep.”
“I can’t. All I can think about is having a fag.” He lied.
“Think about something else, cause you’re *not* smoking in my room.”
Silence…
“Luv?”
“What!?” She exhaled sharply, turning around to face him. “What do you want this time?” She moved to the edge of her bed and looked down on him. She couldn’t help biting her lower lip at the sight of his bare chest bathed in moonlight.
“What about school?” He enquired looking up at her.
“What about school?” She sighed trying to sound as exasperated as possible.
“You know…”
“It’s one in the morning, Spike. Trust me, I don’t know.” She grumbled as she glanced at her alarm clock.
“The library… what we agreed on?” He managed to say without giving away his unease.
Buffy felt her whole body tense up at the recollection. She ignored it and replied:
“We already did it, so… no need to talk about it anymore.”
She quickly lay back on the bed, facing the ceiling.
“Oh, come on. You know it’s not going to work. We might have convinced the nerdy kids, but not the rest of the school.” He protested, turning on his side and propping up his head on his left hand.
When he heard no answer he called her name.
“I’m here.” She mumbled. “I’m thinking.”
Minutes passed and Spike grew impatient.
“Buffy? You done thinking?”
“Fine! We’ll do it. Tomorrow. During lunch break. Now go to sleep.”
Buffy tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach and settled down to sleep. But slumber never came. She tossed and turned in bed, the strange sensation of anxiety strangling her, making it hard to breathe, to move, to think, to do anything at all. She moved to the edge of the mattress and glanced down at an apparently sound asleep Spike. She returned to her nervous flipping over under the covers until she heard him mumble in a low voice.
“What’s the matter, luv?” He asked as he realized he wasn’t going to get any sleep if he didn’t make her stop moving around.
“Nothing.” She quickly lied.
“Then why are you tossing and turning?”
“I’m just… trying to get comfortable.” She retorted.
“You’ve been trying to get comfortable for an hour now.”
“I-… It’s just that… maybe it’s not such a good idea.” She dared to say.
“What is?”
“The… plan… and kissing.” She hesitated.
“You chickening out?” He chuckled.
“I *am* not!” She sat up on the bed to look down at him, pulling the sheets around her small form.
“You’re chickening out.” He teased.
“I AM not!” She insisted.
“What is it luv? Afraid if you kiss me you won’t be able to keep you hands off of my tight little body?” He continued his mockery.
“Ha! As if!” The anger growing in her helped her get over the nervousness racing through her.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You’re afraid you won’t be able resist me.” He continued to tease.
“Spike, I could kiss you anytime, anyplace, if only I could repress the intense urge to hurl I have every time you are within two feet of me.” She snapped. But her harsh words lost most of their sting at the sight of her nervous pulling and pushing of the sheets.
Spike smiled and sat up on the floor.
“Prove it.” He challenged her in a low voice.
Buffy’s eyes widened as he crawled his way into the kneeling position and set his hand on the mattress on each side of her. She gazed at him, cocky grin over his lips, a defiant sparkle in his eyes.
“Ha!” She managed to snap out of her daze. “Nice try! I’m not that easy.” And she forced a plastic smile on her lips.
“Believe me luv, I’m not trying to trick you into kissing me. I’m just afraid that tomorrow you’ll go all Al Gore on me, in front of the whole school.” He retorted.
Buffy widened her eyed and furrowed her eyebrows, clearly offended.
“Come on, pet. You gotta admit, every time I try to touch you or even go anywhere near you, you freeze up.”
“It’s because of the hurling factor. I told you.” She pouted.
“Get over it if you want to fool anyone.” He snapped a bit offended.
They looked at each other for a few moments, in silence, until Buffy broke it. With a loud sigh and patting the mattress, signalling him to sit.
“Come here.” She mumbled reluctantly.
“What for?” He grumbled.
“If I’m supposed to not freeze up, I better get used to having you near me.” She stated the obvious.
He stood up and plopped down on the bed with a loud, annoyed sigh. They sat once more in silence until Buffy spoke:
“Well… are you just gonna stand there? Touch me.” She ordered.
“What?!” Spike choked.
“I’m supposed to act natural when you touch me, so…”
A mischievous grin spread over his lips as he eyed her suggestively.
“Not *that* kind of touching!” She immediately stepped in.
He pulled his mouth to one side in a wicked version of a smirk and then nodded. Slowly, his fingers ran over a strand of hair which fell over her face and neatly placed it behind her ear. They then proceeded with making their way down to her shoulder, over her collarbone to reach her neck and cup her cheek. He moved his whole body closer to hers, as his other hand traced circular pattered over her right arm, down to her hand. He felt her tense up when he sneaked it around her waist and drew her closer to him.
“See? This is what I’m talking about.” He complained, dropping his arms to his sides and sighing audibly.
“I’m sorry.” She said with a pout. “It’s just…” She took a long deep breath, closed her eyes and continued: “Ok! I’m focusing. Try again.”
It took a few moments, but she soon felt him move around her and take his place behind her, spreading his legs on either side of her. His hand brushed over her golden locks, pulling them over her left shoulder, exposing her neck. Instinctively, Buffy tilted her head baring her right shoulder to him. She felt his arms encircle her, bringing her back closer to his chest, until she was leaning on him. His hands rested on her waist idly playing with the edges of her shirt. Buffy couldn’t help but smile as she remembered him doing that just the day before. But the smirk soon crumbled and she froze as she felt his lips lightly brush over her shoulder. He stopped as he felt her tense up, and waited for a few seconds. Silently, she gave him permission to continue and he returned his mouth to the tender flesh at the crook of her neck. At first it was soft and almost imperceptible, but it soon grew in intensity as he lightly suckled at her skin, his teeth nibbling as he made his way up to her earlobe. He took it into his mouth and his grip immediately tightened around her waist. Lost in the feeling, she relaxed and her own hands came into play as she caressed his bare arms. A low sigh escaped her parted lips as he continued his ministrations and she leaned against him for support. His lips left her ear to trace the edge of her jaw as she turned around to face him when suddenly he backed away.
It took a second for her to perceive the loss of his touch, but eventually she did. She blinked wildly as she tried to focus her foggy eyes on him.
“What?” She breathed.
“I heard a noise.”
They sat in silence, waiting for another sound, but it never came. They exchanged a quick glance and all the awkwardness of the moment came flooding in. Buffy frantically ran her hands through her hair as she struggled to find something to say.
“Well… I-I guess… we’re… done.” She managed to stutter.
“Yeah.” Spike desperately tried to sound nonchalant and calm about the whole situation but all of a sudden what do to with his hands became an issue as he tried shoving them into the back pockets of his black jeans, awkwardly stumbling out of the bed.
“Well… Goodnight then.” She stammered as she watched him laying down on the floor.
She pulled the covers over her shoulders, nuzzling against the pillow. She held her breath as she recognized a strange scent over her sheets and all around her – his scent. Once again, she struggled to find slumber, but this time she wasn’t alone. On the floor, lying spread-eagle, Spike stared up at the ceiling, his mind wandering in the clouds, unable to fall asleep.
It was going to be a long night.