Part Four: Study Session
It was well into the night, and she knew she should be sleeping, but listening to Spike’s soothing, butterscotch voice was something she had long taken for granted. He sounded like an English teacher when he went on these little tangents, which apparently did it for her in more ways than one. If she weren’t so enamored by him, she might be a bit disturbed with herself.
“So, let me get this straight…”
“I’m I goin’ too fast, love?”
“No. I just wanna make sure I understand the old material before you start on something shiny and new.”
Spike rolled his eyes and tickled her feet lightly under the covers. They were positioned at opposite ends of the bed, doing their level best to remain chaste and keep to studies. Well, Buffy was trying—Spike was apathetic. She just needed to make him behave; anything fun was too risky while home, especially with her mother just down the hallway.
“Like a virgin?”
She blinked.
“Shiny and… Ah, buggerin’ youth.”
“Hey. Watch it, old man.”
Spike smirked and tickled her again. “Madonna. From the ‘80s. You were around during the ‘80s, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, but likely not listening to Madonna.” Buffy smiled and tickled him back. “But no, I didn’t fall off the tractor yesterday. I do, however, like giving you a hard time.”
“You give me a hard something, all right.”
She shooed him. “Evil.”
“Always.” He shook his head with a wry grin. “Anyway, the book, love, remember? The one on the paper that’s due…oh, tomorrow.”
Buffy sobered immediately. “Oh god. This is Wednesday, isn’t it?” He nodded. “Yes, yes. The book. Book knowledge for last minute paper writing in the library.”
“You’re gonna skip first and third again, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Paper takes precedence.”
“I can try to pop by so I can proof it for you before you turn it in if you like.” She stared at him. He fidgeted. “What?”
“You are the perfect boyfriend, you know that?”
A shit-eating grin spread across his face in turn, and he nodded as though he not only knew but had already handed out flyers. “So I’ve been told,” he replied, too smug for his own good. “Comes with the territory.”
“Okay. So, let me get this straight. Piggy and his glasses represent clear-sightedness and intelligence.” She paused, searching her memory. “He’s the law and order of the adult world. He wants to obey the rules they had before the crash. The ones that set them to society.”
Spike nodded, rewarding her under the covers with an impromptu foot-massage.
“Ralph represents order and people. He’s good but he’s tempted by the wicked.” Her eyes narrowed at him. “I can relate. And the Conch represents unity and power.”
“Can you tell me why?” He rubbed his fingers over her sensitive arches, touch feather light and tender.
It was strange how the most subtle of caresses could turn her on so effortlessly. Buffy nodded, breathing a bit harder as she leaned against the headboard. “Because…the boys established…ummm…that psychological whatnot from the beginning. They can speak…if they’re holding it. And they answer it when it’s…ummm…sounded, and when it breaks, the last of their…”
“Something wrong?”
“Nope.”
“Right then. Go on.”
Buffy glared at him but complied. “When it…smashes…the last of their…their unity smashes, too.”
He winked, fingers gliding further up her leg. “Good girl.”
“Spike—”
“Hush, sweetheart. This could get interesting.”
She frowned. “What could—”
He whipped the blankets away, expert hands prying her thighs apart as he slid up the bed and settled between them. “This,” he answered hoarsely, nuzzling her clothed pussy with an appreciative breath. Then he frowned and fingered her panties. “What’ve I told you about wearin’ these?”
“I’m sorry,” she answered, not nearly as aggressively as she intended. “Sometimes underwear is essential.”
“Sometimes,” he agreed. His canines extended before she could retort, deftly slicing through the thin material. When he glanced up to her astonished face, he had nothing to offer but a cheeky grin. “Not now. Here’s how it goes, love. You gimme a right answer, you get rewarded.”
“Not a good idea.”
A cool brow arched. “Why?”
Her eyes widened and she waved erratically at the door. And to her utter amazement, he shrugged.
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he said. “As long as you can keep quiet.”
“I—”
Spike lowered his head, nuzzling her slick flesh with a wanton moan of approval. “You always smell delicious,” he murmured and licked along her inner thigh.
“Oh god…”
Just as quickly he withdrew his tongue and looked up at her, blinking innocently. “Right then,” he said. “Now that the rules have been established…tell me ‘bout Jack.”
If glares were stakes, he’d be dust. “You’re so gonna get yours later.”
“You better bloody believe it, baby.”
“Argh!”
“Shhh. Wouldn’t wanna wake up Mum, now would you?”
She glared harder, waited, then sighed when she realized he wouldn’t let up. “Jack…ummm…he’s the one who’s all, ‘yay anarchy’…right?” Spike smirked and brushed a soft kiss across her clit. Buffy and seized his shoulder. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Mhmmm…what else?”
“Well…he’s the leader of the bad guys. The ones that wanna kill Ralphie.”
“That’s Ralph.”
“Difference being?”
“Ralphie’s the kid from A Christmas Story.”
“There’s more than one Ralphie in the world, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, but not in this book.” He nipped at her thigh and grinned when she muffled a squeak. “But you were right about Jack bein’ the leader.”
To emphasize her rightness, though, he favored her clit with a long, lavish lick.
Buffy dropped her head against the headboard. “I could get used to this teaching technique…”
She scrunched up her face and searched her memory. “He…ummm…he banks on self-interest,” she said after a moment. “He…he represents the type of person Golding thinks everyone…would uhhh…turn into without society.”
“That was two right answers, love.”
“Kinda one big one.”
He shrugged. “Whichever.” He slid a hand up her leg, leaving a pathway of goosebumps trailing after him. And without ceremony, he slid two fingers inside of her before treating her clit to another kiss. “And now Simon.”
“Just Simon?”
He shrugged. “We can cover Roger and the others if you like…”
“Ohhh…I might like very much.”
Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Might?”
“Mmm…I’d like the reward more than the remembering.”
He chuckled. “It’s all right, pet,” he murmured. “We still have the themes to go over. Now, tell me about Simon.”
Her breaths came heavier, faster. So much so they nearly hurt. “Simon’s Jesus,” she explained, closing her eyes and forcing herself to think, which had never been as hard for anyone as it was for her right now. “He’s in tune to everything. He can hear the Beast. And he gives up his life to…to…uhmmm…”
“Go on.” Spike began pumping the fingers he had inside of her.
“Heightened…uhhhh…perception. He takes…everything…seriously.”
He lowered his head again, nipping at her clit. “Mmmm.”
“He’s…like Giles.”
Spike paused and glanced up, doming a brow. “’Scuse me?”
“Well, if Giles was stranded on an island, he’d be the first to start hearing voices from evil.”
“You think so?”
She nodded. “Also…from what you said…Simon’s more in tune to the big picture. If that isn’t Giles, I don’t know what is.”
“Lemme get this straight…” Spike cocked his head, considering her. “I’m down here licking your cunny, and you think of Giles?”
“I was answering a question! And ew!”
A grin that was one-hundred-percent pure evil tickled his sinful lips which were, yes, slick with her juices. “Just checking,” he replied, winking.
“Major ew.”
“Sorry baby. Can I make it better?” He returned his mouth to her skin, dotting her inner thigh with gentle, teasing mock bites. “Better?”
“No, keep trying.”
“One condition.”
She looked at him.
He smiled. “Tell me ‘bout the Beast.”
“Well,” she began. “I have one between my legs right now.”
Spike flashed a grin and plunged his tongue into her pussy, licking wildly and drawing away before she could blink. Buffy arched and moaned under him. Now had to be it, right? The moment he forgot what the hell they were talking about and held her to his mouth. Spike and control did not mix, so how he was still so calm was freaking beyond her.
“Baddest beast there ever was,” he replied. “But not the one I’m talking about. Tell me more, sweetheart. After all, I get to enjoy the rewards, too. And you’ve been such a quick study so far.”
Okay. So that was his aim. Proper motivation. She could do this.
“The beast…is…” Buffy’s brow furrowed as she concentrated. “He’s the root of all evil.”
“Mhmmm…”
“It…” Her eyes fluttered shut and she tunneled her fingers through his hair, directing him unthinkingly back to where she craved his touch the most. Spike grinned against her, tickling her clit with his tongue before sucking her into his mouth, wagging his head.
Hot sparks of pure yes began to ignite. Buffy hissed and thrust her hips up, and when he pulled back she thought she might cry.
“What?” she asked. “Spike—”
“You stopped talking.”
Her mouth fell open, closed, and opened again. “I—”
“I really don’t see why you’re being so mean to me,” he continued, straight-faced. “I mean, here I am, wanting to touch you. Begging you to come all over my face and you won’t even answer a simple question.”
She stared at him incredulously.
“Something the matter?”
“You are a jerk.”
Spike gasped and pulled back. “Words hurt, Slayer. Didn’t they teach you that at school?”
“I’ll hurt you a lot more here in a second.”
“Shhhh. Careful there. Wouldn’t wanna wake up ole mum.” He offered his smuggest smile, which only grew wider when she growled at him. “Now then. Tell me about the beast. Tell me…and I can get back to what I’d really like to be doing.”
To emphasize his point, he resumed pumping his fingers into her, the sound wet and elicit and god she wanted him now.
“Talk to me,” Spike murmured before dragging his fingers out of her again. And just to torture her, she was sure, raised them to his mouth and licked them clean.
“Spike…”
“Want more, gotta talk.”
“You expect me to…” He lowered his hand to her pussy again and ran a finger between her labia. That need to cry returned and Buffy did everything she could to keep from arching into him. “You…expect me…to…talk like this?”
“Why not?”
“Remind me to tell you to keep a lively conversation next time I decide to…erm…” She glanced down and noted, not unhappily, that he had to be the most uncomfortable man on the planet if the bulge straining against the denim was any indication. “…You know.”
Spike grinned at her. “‘You know?’”
“Well, I’d hope you know.”
“You’re adorable.”
“Funny. I think the same thing about you.”
A growl tore through him and without warning, he pulled his hand back entirely, ignoring her whimper of protest. “The Beast,” he said, suddenly the epitome of a no-nonsense schoolmaster. “Explain.”
“I…uhhh…the Beast. It’s…it’s the Lord of the Flies.” She searched his face for a sign of encouragement and hissed a breath of annoyance when she didn’t receive one. “You…ummm…you said that the Beast was the Lord of the Flies, and that the Lord of the Flies was like…the…ummm…”
“Y’know, pet, I just don’t think your heart of hearts is in this anymore.”
“Spike!”
He pressed a finger to his lips, eyes twinkling.
Buffy leaned forward to whap him across the arm. “You got me into this!”
“Into what?”
“Bah…”
He shrugged. “Come on, sweetheart. We just went over this. I know you can do it.”
Buffy glared a moment longer, but her glares had officially lost their juice because he didn’t even pretend to look intimidated. Left to nothing else, she turned her thoughts back to the conversation they’d had earlier. The things he’d said then—how he’d said them. She closed her eyes and focused for a few seconds. Then, more collected, she began, “The Beast is the Lord of the Flies. It’s…it’s the root of all evil. Basically, take people away from society…like the boys were, and place them in uncivilized conditions, and they revert to the root characteristic of human nature.” Her eyes remained shut and Spike didn’t say a word, but she felt his answer press against her intimately the next minute. A teasing nibble at first, then he murmured into her flesh, sank his tongue into her pussy, and lapped. A long moan sailed through her lips and she focused harder, desperate to maintain concentration even as her fingers wove through Spike’s hair to hold him against her. “A-according to Golding, then…the root of all human nature…is…” He licked from her opening to her clit and slid his fingers back inside her as he sucked her into his mouth. “The root…of all…human…” His tongue was drawing circles around her clit as he sucked and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.
He pulled back just long enough to ask, “Root of what, pet?”
“Evil!” she finally gasped.
He muffled a response into pussy, fucking her faster now with his fingers, staring as his soaked skin plunged in and out of her. He watched for a moment, raised his gaze to hers, then moaned and fell back on her clit, flattening his tongue against it.
And that was it. Buffy blast off. She shuddered hard, her muscles clenching around his fingers. God, he knew just what to do with his hands, but she couldn’t help but be marginally disappointed when he didn’t follow it up by thrusting something else inside her. Not that that was a good idea because they couldn’t be quiet, but damn.
When Buffy finally returned to herself—when her eyes decided to kindly unblur—she found Spike resting on her stomach again, dawdling mindless patterns across the sensitive flesh at her thigh with his forefinger. His eyes were closed, but then he opened them and met hers, hitting her hard with that open adoration that seemed too big for one person to hold, to feel for anyone. It was only a flash, though. Over the past few weeks, Spike had become more reserved with his declarations, verbal and otherwise. She knew he loved her—he told her often, with enthusiasm—but somehow, even that feeling had transpired the hit and miss of most relationships. They had come so far in just a short amount of time, and it was only getting better.
In seconds, the wall was up again, and he smirked a smirk of pure male arrogance, waggling his brows.
“I’m sorry, pet,” he said. “Got carried away there for a minute. What was the Beast, again?”
Buffy blinked. Then, flashing a smirk her own, said, “The Beast is the Lord of the Flies, and it’s the root of all evil. Take people away from society, ergo the boys, and place them in uncivilized conditions, and they fall back on pure human nature. Which, according to Golding, would be evil. Also, you said only Simon could hear the voice, which boosts his Jesus-status. Jesus having a conversation with the devil. Furthermore, it makes sense that the Beast would appear to him in the form of a decapitated pig’s head—gross yes, but sense-like. The boys put it there because of their reverting to form, thus it manifested out of general wonkiness.” She paused briefly, placing a thoughtful finger against her lips as she considered. “Do you think it’s possible that you were born on that island? Because you’re about as evil as they come, Buster.”
Spike looked at her with astonishment.
She shrugged and flashed a smile. “What?”
“You’ve never read the book?”
“Never ever.”
He stared at her. She smiled again and leaned forward to kiss him. “You’re a good teacher,” she said with a shrug. “The very best I’ve ever had.”
“Bloody well better be.”
“Though I think if Mr. Edwards tried teaching the way you just did, he’d be fired.”
“And then killed. No one else gets to teach you the way I do.” Spike glanced to the bed linens, still flustered, and shook his head. “You really just…you picked all that up by listening to me?”
She nodded. “Sure did. Despite what Giles has told you, I do listen when it’s important. Slayer here. Kinda essential. Besides…” She kissed him again. “You’ve got a really, really sexy voice. Very easy when it comes to the listening.”
Spike stared at her a moment longer. Then, slowly, he smiled. “Sexy, huh?”
“Oh yeah. Really.”
“Are you coming onto teacher now? That’s a naughty girl.”
“And you’re a bad, bad man.”
“Got that memo.”
A sudden tapping filled the room. Buffy jumped and grabbed onto Spike’s arm out of reflex, finding her lap covered with a pile of bunched blankets the next instant. Her boyfriend’s warning growl meant only one possibility, and she rolled her eyes in silent agreement.
“Who invited loverboy over here?”
Buffy felt a familiar wave of irritation at that. She and Spike had had numerous conversations about Angel, specifically how he wasn’t her lover anything anymore, but the conclusions of those conversations seemed to evaporate by the time they next had to see the elder vampire. And yeah, it was beyond annoying feeling like they had made no progress where this was concerned.
But then, as she always did, she reminded herself that not too long had passed since she’d tried to convince Spike that she didn’t want him, that she was happy the way things were with Angel, and what they’d shared had been a mistake. It hadn’t been true, but feed a person a lie enough times and eventually they believed it. On the surface, Spike hadn’t been duped, but his feelings had been tossed in the shredder until the night where Angel-Became-Angelus-But-Not-Really. It hadn’t been until then that Buffy had admitted to herself what she really wanted.
And given the long history of women Spike loved choosing Angel over him, Buffy understood why he had a complex. Hell, she’d have one too.
She just didn’t know how to make it better. How to convince him the complex might be real, but its focus wasn’t.
“I think he invited himself,” she said after a moment. “Better open the window.”
Spike cocked his head.
“Well, he’s obviously here for a reason.”
“To annoy yours truly.” He rolled his eyes but complied, shaking his head as he arched back to unhook the window latch. “’Ello, Angel. Whatsa matter? Run out of pulsers to irritate?”
The dark brooding figure tilted his head in begrudging acknowledgment. “Spike.”
Spike nodded. “It’s a bloody pleasure to see you, too.” He turned to Buffy, eyes wide and imploring. “Can we kick him out, now?”
She snickered and ignored him. “Hey, Angel. What’s up?”
“I need to talk to you.”
Spike bristled. “Figured as much.”
“There’s trouble,” he said, never once taking his eyes off Spike. It was amazing how quickly the levels of testosterone shot off the scales. “An attack earlier today. Some creature busted into a funeral visitation.”
Buffy sat up straight, eyes wide. “Anyone hurt?”
“A couple scratches. One guy got a pretty considerable chunk taken out of his arm. It was a hit and run thing…at least that’s what they’re saying.” Angel shook his head. “The creature got there, did its business, and left.”
“Why didn’t anyone contact me?”
He finally turned to stare at her. “Giles has been trying on and off for a few hours, but Willow said everything was fine. That you and…” Angel nodded slightly in Spike’s direction. “That you had plans tonight and had gone patrolling. I just…wanted to make sure everything was all right.”
“What he means, love,” Spike clarified, “is that I hadn’t eaten you up.
Of course. Because this was a fight she would also never stop having. At least until Angel left town, as he’d told her he planned to do following the Ascension. “Well, there was no reason to worry. No one’s been eaten here.”
Spike chuckled and winked. Buffy replayed what she said and felt her face go hot.
Angel’s scowl deepened. “So…you two have had a busy night?”
“Got plenty busy, if you—”
“Yep,” Buffy said quickly. “Spike’s been helping me with my homework.”
There was a pause of disbelief. “Homework.”
“That and then some,” Spike agreed.
“Smells more like the ‘then some.’”
Spike tilted his head, obviously very proud of himself. “Comes with the territory, mate,” he replied. “Slayer’s got a paper on Lord of the Flies. I was…testin’ her memory.”
“You’ve read Lord of the Flies?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Oh god. Please don’t get him started.” She shifted slightly and puffed out her chest. “’S tha best bloody book in tha world, luv. Here, let me quote you me favorite passage. Starts on Chapter One an’ ends with ‘the end.’”
Spike smirked. “Gotta tell you, sweetheart, that’s likely the worst accent I’ve ever heard.”
“You could always give me lessons.”
His grin widened in delight. “My bloody pleasure.”
“And that’s my exit cue,” Angel said, backtracking fast out the window. “I’m just glad you’re all right. Giles said he’d likely be up all night trying to pinpoint what the creature was off the description and the sketch I made, so prepare for a game plan come morning.”
There was a groan. “Great. Paper and work all in one morning. I need you, Friday night!”
Spike reached out to massage her shoulder. “Poor baby. I’ll be sure to pamper you extra special.”
“You’re so good to me.”
He shrugged. “What can I say? Anythin’ for my girl. Be it grunt work or hand service.”
Buffy flushed again and slapped his shoulder again. He dazzled her with an unrepentant grin.
Angel favored them both with a stoic look that made her feel like discarded chewing gum. At length, he nodded. “And I’m gone.”
Spike snickered. “Thought you were gone two minutes ago, mate.”
“I’m gone now. Good luck with your…” Angel’s eyes narrowed. “Studies.”
Though he had behaved marvelously during the impromptu visit, Spike visibly relaxed once they were alone again. Buffy watched the way the tension in his body rolled away, feeling very much like she was the only person who truly knew him. The arrogant mask he wore around Angel faded as well in favor of the sweeter, more open expression he seemed to reserve just for her. There was such a large difference based on his behavior around others and his behavior with her alone.
“Thanks,” she murmured after a minute.
Spike stiffened again but only briefly. As though he needed to remind himself who he was with. “It’s nothing, sweetheart,” he replied. “It’s just Angel.”
“It’s more than that.”
A beat passed, and he nodded, resigned. “Yeah. Well, as long as these little midnight visitations don’t become a habit.”
“That’s the first time he’s attempted contact without us being in a group-sitch. Don’t worry.”
He offered a faint smile. “Who’s worried?”
Buffy released a sigh and moved forward, cupped his cheek to draw his mouth to hers. “Trust me,” she murmured. “I’m your girl. If I wanted to be with Angel, I would be. I don’t. He never made me happy. Not really.” She smiled into his eyes. “You make me so happy.”
“I love you,” he whispered.
And again she broke inside. That was the last barrier. The one thing she couldn’t tell him. Despite how she wanted it, to know that the thing she felt was love, she couldn’t make those words come. It made her soar with every time she heard them. Every time those words escaped his lips, she was made over again.
But she couldn’t give it back to him. Not yet.
Someday. There was always the promise of someday.
Thus she opted with a weak but heartfelt, “I know.”
Spike smiled and kissed her forehead. “It’s all right, sweetheart,” he reassured her.
She hoped so. She hoped so with every fiber of her being because she—better than anyone—knew how simple it was to say one thing and mean another. Even if he thought he meant it now, it did not mean he always would.
“Now then,” Spike drawled, tone lighter. “Where were we?”
Buffy’s eyes widened. He whipped the blankets away in a blink, and she found herself immediately assaulted by a hungry mouth and hands that knew her well. A low moan escaped her, and she leaned back. She was absolute pudding at his touch.
“Ah, yes. Done with metaphors.” He leaned over her, stealing a kiss from her lips. “Time for themes.”