Chapter 20
She tossed and turned for what seemed like ages, eventually she tired of it and sat up on the bed, legs brought close to her chest and chin resting on her cotton covered knees. Slowly, she rocked herself as the thoughts meandered around in her still slightly intoxicated mind. Her face cringed up as she remembered…’More than anything. But not like this’. She shut her eyes, trying to control the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Inevitably, other questions invaded her reasoning. Was he still in the house? She hadn’t heard the front door open… She pressed her lips together as she pushed herself off the mattress and walked barefoot to the window. She paused for a second, before lightly tugging at the curtains. A wave of relief washed over her as she saw the old car still parked in her driveway. She frowned and mentally scolded herself as she found herself smiling at the rusted vehicle and quickly made her way back to her bed, plopping down on it. She sat for a few minutes, contemplating what to do next. He was still in her home… ‘How dare he? I’ll show him.’ Having found a perfectly good reason to leave her room, she stood up, put on her bunny shaped slippers and walked out the door. She slowly made her way downstairs and entered the living room.
She felt her heart skip a beat when she saw him. There he was, sprawled on the couch, dressed in a pair of jeans and his black t-shirt, one arm thrown carelessly over his face, the other dangling to the floor.
She cocked her head slightly, remaining perfectly still as she watched him sleeping in a pool of moonlight. He looked so… ‘No! He doesn’t look anything! Actually, he does look something… extremely annoying.’
With renewed anger she flicked the light switch on and shouted:
“What are you doing here?”
She watched as he jolted up into sitting position at the sudden noise, his arms instinctively coming to rest on his stomach. He blinked wildly as his eyes refused to adjust to the harsh light coming from the ceiling.
“What?” He managed to mumble in a hoarse voice.
“What are still doing here? I told you to go away… remember?” She gave him an exasperated sigh as she crossed her arms over her chest and angrily tapped her fur-covered left foot.
“Hum…” He inhaled deeply while he rubbed his eyes, his head resting on his hands for a few moments before turning to look up at her. He opened and closed his lips a couple of times, trying to wet his dry mouth as he inspected the apparently pissed off teen towering over him. He never said anything, simply glanced at the large clock on one of the walls and then looked back at Buffy: “It’s four in the morning, luv. Can we have our usual heart-warming banter some other time? Say in about… eight hours?”
“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” She hissed.
“Apparently not. Oh goody!” He said with fake enthusiasm, standing up to hover over her nightgown-clad form. “I was sleeping.” He stated the obvious.
Rolling her eyes, she sighed and was about to say something when he started heading for the kitchen. Angrily, she followed him; the alcohol and the heavy, fluffy slippers forcing her to walk in a duck like fashion which caused Spike to chuckle as he leaned against the refrigerator door.
“What are you doing?” She tried to sound as mad as possible, but was extremely distracted as his hand reached under his t-shirt to scratch his chest and in the process pulled at the fabric, exposing his perfectly toned stomach.
“Trying to find something to drink.” He explained without even looking at her as he inspected the contents of her fridge. Eventually, he opted for some orange juice, picking up the bottle and setting it on the counter as he searched for a glass in the cabinets.
“This is *my* house!” She protested stomping her foot.
“And I think that after I cleaned and washed your-vomit-soaked-self I have earned the right to some orange juice.” He said raising his eyebrows as he sipped from the yellowish liquid.
“Oh…” Was Buffy’s embarrassed answer as she felt the redness creep up her neck to flood her cheeks.
They stood in awkward silence for a few excruciating moments until he finally spoke:
“You seem to be felling better.”
“Hum… Still kinda wobbly… but I’m slowly progressing toward complete control of my motor functions.” She answered, not daring to look at him ‘Please, God don’t let him mention what happened upstairs, please don’t let him mention what happened upstairs, please don’t-‘
“Hum… About what happened…”
‘So much for praying. Thanks a lot!’ She grumbled inwardly.
“I-“
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She quickly interrupted, raising her hand. “Let’s just file that under alcohol induced momentary stupidity, ok?”
Spike felt his stomach turn in disgust and anger.
“Fine.” He managed to hiss, slamming the orange juice on the counter and heading towards the living room.
She quickly followed to find him picking up his discarded duster and shirt before turning back to the hall.
“Where are you going?” She mumbled in a low voice.
“Home. Like you wanted.” He grumbled as he headed for the front door.
“Don’t!” She didn’t know what had possessed her to say it, but she did and she swallowed hard as she saw him turning around to face her with a frown over his eyebrows. “I mean…” She tried to hide her nervousness. “You don’t *have* to go if you don’t want to.”
“You asking me to stay?” he questioned with half a grin as he tilted his head.
“No!” Was her immediate answer but, as she saw him start to leave, she quickly added. “Yes!” She paused as he faced once again. “I-I’m asking.” Seeing the cocky smirk grow she continued with a nonchalant tone: “It’s just cause I’m not sleepy and I’m bored.”
“I’m flattered, pet.” He mumbled as he strolled back to the living room.
“Don’t be, *William*.” She mocked as she sat down on the couch next to him.
Picking up the remote, he flickered through the channels and – nothing. There was absolutely nothing on. He sighed loudly as he turned off the set and glanced at the white-clad girl sitting next to him.
“Now what?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged.
They paused for a few seconds until Buffy piped up.
“We could play cards.”
“Ok.” He agreed and she immediately jumped off the sofa and jogged her way to a nearby cabinet.
She searched for what seemed like an eternity finally giving up and waving her hands in the air.
“I don’t know where my mom put them.” She mumbled dragging her feet as she made her way back to the couch.
They sat in silence once more. It was starting to get just too awkward for her to handle when he offered:
“Wanna play a game?”
She eyed him suspiciously. He had that dirty look in his eyes and that annoying smirk plastered over his lips. He was up to something, but anything was better than the God-awful silence so… ok, she would bite.
“What game?”
“I don’t know…”
The sound of his voice told her that he knew exactly what game to choose, he was just stalling.
“Maybe… truth or dare?” He tried to sound nonchalant about it, but failed miserably at it.
“Oh, no. I’m not playing truth or dare with you.” She vehemently refused standing up to walk around the table.
“Why not?!” It came out as a half whine.
“Be-Because… because by Monday everyone in school will know all my darkest most twisted secrets, that’s why.” She answered wrapping her arms over her chest.
“I swear I won’t tell anyone. Plus you’ll be able to ask me questions too, remember?”
At that, Buffy stopped the incessant shaking of her head. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea… After a few moments of careful consideration she returned to her seat on the couch, folding her legs under her as she turned to face him.
“Shoot.” She said simply.
“Ok!” He exclaimed clapping his hands together as he sat sideways on the sofa, facing her. “Truth or dare, Summers?”
“Truth.” She answered with a strong voice.
He didn’t need to think too long, quickly asking:
“Do you still have feelings for Angel?” His tone was low, but a hint of unease filtered through as he spoke.
“Yes.” She answered promptly. “My turn. Truth or dare?”
His stomach turned painfully in his gut, twisting until he felt the acid crawl up to the back of his mouth. He swallowed hard and answered:
“Truth.”
“Have you ever loved anyone, and when I say love it’s not in any motherly, brotherly or friendly way. I mean love, as in Romeo-and-Juliet-tragically-bound-to-happen sort of love. And who was it?”
“Yes and Dru.” He responded.
Buffy couldn’t help but add:
“Do you still love her?”
“Na-na, pet you had your one question, it’s my turn now.”
Buffy twisted her mouth in sign of discontentment but didn’t say anything.
“Truth or-“
“Truth.” She interrupted.
“Eager little one, aren’t you?”
“Just ask the question Spike.” She rolled her eyes at him.
“Let me see…” His eyes suddenly gained a wicked sparkle and he lowered his voice as he asked: “Have you ever had a wet dream about me, pet?”
“What?!” She almost jumped off the couch at the surprise question.
“Sex, luv. Have you ever dreamt of having sex with yours truly?”
Buffy’s eyes grew wide and her cheeks turned bright red.
“I want a dare.” She said promptly.
“Hey! That’s cheating.”
“It’s not cheating. I changed my mind.” She complained with a pout.
“You can’t change your mind. The-“
“Fine. Then I quit.”
“Oh, you’re such a baby. If things don’t go you’re way you just quit, is that it?” He objected.
“Fine.” She said, crossing her arms over her chest and grumbling in a low voice. “Yes.”
“What was that, luv?” He pretended not to hear, inside his heart pounded furiously against his chest.
“Yes, alright?!” She shouted. “I’ve had a sex dream about you. But it was just one and I didn’t like it.”
She saw him raise a suspicious eyebrow at her and she insisted:
“I didn’t! Now, truth or dare?”
“Hey, hey not so fast. You didn’t tell me what it was.” He protested.
“You didn’t ask.” She said with a triumphant grin. “Truth or dare?”
Spike paused for a second, his brain still trying to get over the fact that she had had a wet dream about him. He swallowed hard as he tried to focus on what she was asking.
“Truth.”
“Ha-have you ever had… one of those dreams about me?” She scolded herself mentally for the faltering in her voice.
“Yes.” He answered looking straight into her eyes, forcing her to glance away.
Suddenly, his whole expression seemed to change, his eyes grew deeper and darker as he stared intensely at her.
“Ok, your turn!” She said a little too peppy as the nervousness started to get to her. However, it grew twice as big when she saw him move closer to her from the corner of her eyes.
She turned to look at him wide eyed as he leaned in, his face inching closer to her. Her heart raced wildly in her chest, her palms became damp with cold sweat as his lips lightly brushed over hers, his hand coming up to worm its way under her ear and cup her growingly red cheek. He tilted his head and pressed his mouth against hers, his lips parting as his tongue glided over hers. Suddenly, she felt something snapped inside of her. In a flash, she was up and off the couch, careful to put the coffee table between her and the bleached teen that now stared wide eyed at her.
“Ok! That was fun!” she exclaimed over enthusiastically, bringing her hands together for one quick clap. “I think I’ll go back to bed now. Tired! Awww…” She gave him her terribly unbelievable version of a yawn before she turned on her heels and started to head for the hall.
She never even managed to reach the bottom of the staircase before she felt a strong hand grip her arm and force her to turn around. She could swear she could hear her own heartbeat when she turned to meet his dark stare.
“We need to talk about this.” He said in a low, hoarse voice.
“Talk? About what?” She was amazed at how she was able to say the words so nonchalantly, considering her heart was now beating in her throat.
“You know about what. Don’t act dumb.” He insisted closing his eyes for a second.
She sighed loudly and freed herself from his grip to walk around him in the hall.
“So we had wet dreams about each other. It doesn’t mean anything.” She waved her arms around as she spoke, occasionally shrugging. “I mean, it was probably because of all the groping we’ve been doing lately because of… the plan. It just kinda rubbed off…” She tried to rationalize, but as she turned to see his scared eyebrow raised high on his forehead in a clear sign of doubt she exclaimed: “What?! It could be! You know… getting sucked into the part and all. I mean everyone else thinks we’re together. We probably were so good that we even fooled ourselves. It could happen!”
He continued to give her his cynical look.
“Look, what do you want me to say?” she asked exasperated.
“Why did you kiss me?” He questioned taking a step toward her.
“I was drunk!” She quickly defended herself. “And needy cause of my mom and all, it doesn’t count.”
“Fine! What about in there?” He tilted his head towards the kitchen.
“You kissed me!” Her finger travelled to point at him before pointing at herself. “It would be… impolite not to kiss back.”
“You kissed me back because it was impolite not to?!” He asked incredulous. “And the groping on the counter? Part of the politeness too?”
“Yes.” She answered raising her chin high, trying to sound as honest as possible.
“Luv, you hate me, remember? Since when do you care about being polite to me?”
She had no answer to that, she simply pouted and remained still as he closed the distance between them and towered over her.
“Tell the truth, pet… You wanted me just as bad as I wanted you, didn’t you?” He continued his questioning in a low, husky voice.
“Ha!” She’d wanted it to sound filled with contempt, but it came out weak, feeble as he came closer until he was mere inches from her. “Don’t flatter yourself.” She said in a low voice, not daring to look up at him, and staring down at her fluffy bunny-shaped slipper. ‘Oh, what interesting slippers I have. Hey, my left shoe is missing an eye! Funny, never noticed it. Funny, funny, funny.’ She tried all the diversions she could think of in order to calm herself, but nothing seemed to work as his scent hovered around her, intoxicating her. ‘Funny little slippers… Oh, for Christ sake stop shaking.’ She scolded herself.
She trembled as his index finger came under her chin to push it upwards, forcing her to look up at him.
“Ok, tell you what. I give you full permission not to be polite to me. So… if I kiss you right now you’re not obliged in any way to return the favour, ok?”
She didn’t answer; just stared up at him, waiting. Slowly, the hand that still rested on her chin moved behind her to stop on the back of her neck, his other arm snaking around her waist to pull her to him. With nerve-wracking laziness, he leaned in and after what seemed like an eternity, their lips came into contact. He brushed his lips over hers in small, excruciatingly innocent pecks, refusing to deepen the kiss. It was her move to make, but she never did. He could feel his body just begging him to grab her tighter and just crush her against the door and to hell with his male ego, but he fought the urge that was quickly becoming painfully obvious by the sudden lack of room in his pants.
‘Fluffy bunnies, funny fluffy bunnies. Don’t think about Spike, ignore Spike, don’t kiss back, think of fluffy funny bunnies… missing an eye.’ She ordered her body. But her resolve started to crumble as he slowly pushed her against the front door and pressed his entire body against hers. Her heart skipped a beat as she felt something hard pressing against her lower abdomen; his hand, which had until now rested on her lower back came up around her side *accidentally* brushing over her breast as it made its way to her neck.
That was it! Her brain just went into hormone-induced overdrive automatically shutting down, letting her body take over. Her arms flew around him to grip the back of his neck as she parted her lips and slipped her tongue into his mouth.
Spike let out a surprised groan as their tongues ravenously brushed against each other. His arms instantly dropped to her thighs and scooped her off the floor, her nightgown hitching up to her waist as her legs quickly wrapped around him.
As they hungrily kissed and battled, breathing became an issue and Buffy pulled away for a quick intake of air, giving Spike just enough time to say with a cocky attitude:
“I knew you’d cave in. I just-“
“Shut up, Spike.” She mumbled before crushing his mouth with hers.
They returned to their heated kissing and soon she was pushing and pulling at his t-shirt. They broke the kiss just long enough to get the black fabric over his head, quickly coming back to claim each others mouths.
His fingers dug into her pale thighs with bruising force, leaving bright red marks as they moved over the tender skin there.
“Mmmm… “ Buffy hummed into his mouth as she tried to speak, but he wouldn’t let her go.
Eventually, she pulled back and pointed up the stairs.
“Bedroom…” She managed to breathe.
Spike nodded before pulling her for another hungry kiss.
“Mmm… Spike!” She insisted avoiding his mouth
“What?!” He asked in a haze.
“The bedroom… Put me down?”
After the few seconds that were needed to rewire his brain into coherent thought mode, he tilted his head and asked her with a serious tone, “You’re not gonna change your mind are you?” He almost pleaded. “I mean, if you want to you can! It’s just that… “ He pouted slightly and gave her the lost puppy look as he begged: “Please don’t change your mind…”
She couldn’t help but smile as she shook her head.
“You sure?”
She nodded.
Apparently, satisfied with her answer he set her down on the floor.
“And they’ll be no answering the phone.” He suddenly remembered.
“I won’t answer the phone. We’ll just let it ring, even if it’s my mom telling me that she’s coming home.” She giggled as she made her way up the stairs.
“Ok, maybe we can answer the phone.” He changed his mind as he followed her.