Chapter 15

The weight was heavy on her, her arms pinned to the bed in a vise-like grip. A dark shapeless figure hovered above her, his hot, fetid breath on her neck sending shivers down her spine.

She thrashed and fought, but his hold only tightened. She was getting weaker, unable to fight him off, a leaden sensation overtaking her body until the air around her felt thick and viscous, resisting her movement.

The mysterious figure loomed closer as she lay paralyzed, and her lungs tightened until she was gasping frantically for air. Then, he began to shake her, ignoring her futile attempts to swat him away.

“Buffy!” A thin voice cut through the fog. “Buffy!” Louder now, increasing in intensity with every cry.

“Buffy, wake up!”

She opened her eyes to find Spike in a panic, shaking her awake. “Buffy, are you all right? You were screaming.”

“I – I had a bad dream.”

The world crystallized around him, sharp and clear in contrast to the murky haze from which she’d just awoken. Her breathing began to slow, and her heart no longer felt as though it would rocket out of her chest.

She was in bed, with Spike, in her girlhood bedroom. The New Kids on the Block posters were still on the walls, faintly visible in the bluish pre-dawn light. It was all coming back to her. They’d been running from the Initiative, and then the impromptu surgery in the kitchen, then sexy shirtless Spike… and then the oh, wow, I never thought I’d feel like that in her bed.

Spike ran a hand lightly down her bare arm. “Were you dreaming about…?” She nodded, and his hand paused, hovering at her elbow. “Did you – remember anything? Could you see who it – who it was?”

Buffy shook her head. “It was just an empty shape, just this… presence. Heavy and – and intimidating. Holding me down…”

He cuddled her closer, closing his eyes with a pained expression as he kissed her hair. “It’s all right, pet. Just a dream.”

“Yeah,” she replied shakily, pulling the sheet up to cover her chest.

“So… uh, you sleep well?” he asked, easing himself into a sitting position as he awkwardly tried to make conversation. “I mean, other than that last bit.”

“Yeah, I guess.” She sat up as well, tugging the sheet with her and tucking it under her armpits. “How – how about you? Did you sleep…?”

“Yeah.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence, unable to produce the bantering small talk they were usually so good at. Finally, Buffy said, “So, last night was…”

“Yeah,” Spike chimed in, nodding along with her. “I mean, I…”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

“Really?” he asked, stealing a glance at her. “You weren’t… I mean, it wasn’t too…?”

“No. No, it was… good.”

Spike breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been terribly afraid that she would think it was all a mistake in the morning, that he’d ruined things by reminding her too much of what had happened, or by pushing her too fast. Having her wake up screaming hadn’t exactly eased his fears any. His heart had leapt into his throat, so sure that she would wake up and accuse him, that something about last night must have triggered her memory and she would think –

Buffy’s tinkling laughter brought him back to the present. “What are we doing?” she asked him, stifling her incredulous giggles.

He grinned, finding her humor contagious. “I have no idea.” He leaned over and kissed her, and all the awkwardness melted away. Buffy let the sheet fall away between them as she pulled him closer, sliding back down against the pillows.

“You make all the bad dreams go away,” she murmured.

Spike closed his eyes for a moment, pressing his forehead against hers. “Try my best, love.” He dipped his head again, relaxing his body into hers as the kiss deepened. His leg slipped between hers, and he felt her dampness against his thigh, his cock stirring in response. He hesitated, thinking he should roll them over, change positions, anything but him lying on top of her, pinning her down. She couldn’t possibly want –

And yet, her hands slid down his sides to rest on his hips, pulling them square with hers as she wriggled underneath him.

“Buffy, are you –”

“Sure?” she finished with a knowing smile, and he ducked his head sheepishly at his predictability. “Yes, Spike, I’m sure. This feels… right.”

She took him in with more ease than she had the night before, reaching up to bury her hands in his hair, pulling his head down for a kiss. Then, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back on the pillow, allowing herself to get lost in the sensations Spike was creating.

This was how sex was supposed to be, loving and wonderful and carefree. And it hit her that she’d never truly felt that way; even before the rape, her limited sexual experiences had been fraught with angst, culminating in disappointment and heartbreak. For the first time, she might actually end up happy, might actually get more than one night to enjoy this.

Her climax came hard and fast, taking her breath away. He just grinned with satisfaction as she shuddered around him, hands grasping his shoulders as though to anchor herself.

As she came down from the high, Spike continued to thrust, slowing down to a gentle, easy rocking. He wanted to savor this moment, draw it out as long as he could. He hadn’t known when she’d first burst into his crypt, all righteous anger and accusations, how hard he would fall for her. He’d thought it would be easy, tell her what she wanted to hear, get her to forget this whole mess. He hadn’t counted on wanting to help her through it, wanting to help her solve the mystery, even as he withheld the missing piece. He should’ve come clean, but it was too late now; he was in too deep, and he couldn’t risk losing her. His desire for her had overwhelmed his judgment, his self-preservation, even his guilt. But this, right here in her arms, this was perfection.

And with stomach-churning certainty, he knew he was in love with her.

*****

The ringing telephone jolted Buffy awake to find her drawn curtains aglow with late morning sunshine. As she fumbled around on the night stand trying to answer the phone, Spike groaned, rolling onto his stomach and pulling the pillow over his head.

“Hello?” she said groggily.

“Buffy, oh, my God!” Willow’s voice burst from the receiver. Buffy flinched and held it out a few inches from her ear. “We were so worried!”

“Will?” She slipped out of bed and padded over to the window. “What’s the matter?”

“You didn’t check in last night! Giles was afraid you got skewered by the Polgara or something.”

“Giles worries too much,” she mumbled, peeking through the curtains.

“Oi! Watch it!” Spike said, his voice muffled by the pillow, as a stray beam of light hit the bed.

She let the curtain fall back into place. “Sorry.”

“What was that?” Willow asked. “Was that Spike?”

“Uh, yeah. He kinda… spent the night.”

“Buffy!” Willow shrieked, causing her to hold the phone away again. “What happened?”

With a quick glance at Spike, she said, “Hold on a sec.” Placing the phone down on her dresser, she pulled her bathrobe out of the closet and slipped it on. “Okay,” she said, taking the phone and going out into the hall, closing the door behind her.

“Come on, spill. I need details.”

“It was nothing,” she insisted, making her way downstairs. “We killed the Polgara, and then we ran into the Initiative. They shot Spike with some tracking thingamajig, so I had to, like, dig it out of his shoulder. He was injured, so I let him spend the night.”

“You are so lying.”

“I’m not!”

“Buffy, I can tell when you’re hiding something.”

Buffy hesitated, in the midst of putting on a pot of coffee. “Where are you? At Giles’?”

“The dorm.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes… why?”

“Do you promise not to tell anyone else? I mean it, Will. This is very much a ‘Buffy needs to tell people herself’ kind of thing.”

“I promise, I promise!” Willow was practically squealing. “So, did you…?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And?”

Buffy slid down to the floor between the sink and the breakfast bar, sitting with her knees pulled up and her back leaning against the cabinet. “And… it was incredible.”

“It wasn’t, like, weird or anything, after… you know?”

“No, it wasn’t. I mean, it was a little awkward at times, but he made me feel so – so safe, and cared for, it was like none of that mattered.” Even though she was alone in the kitchen, she couldn’t help smiling.

“And Spike was good? You know, in bed?”

“Oh, yeah.” She tipped her head back against the cabinet and let out a giggle.

“So, how does it compare? Better than Angel?” Willow teased.

“Best I’ve ever had,” Buffy replied honestly. “Okay, granted, that’s not saying much, what with the whopping two other guys I’ve been with. But yeah… it was… special.”

“That’s really great, Buffy.”

It was hard to tell over the phone, but she thought she detected less enthusiasm in Willow’s tone than the words might suggest. “You’re not freaked that it’s Spike?” she probed.

Willow hesitated. “Um, I’m working on that part. Right now, I just want to be glad that you’re so happy. It’s been a long time since you’ve sounded like this.”

Buffy smiled to herself again. “I know. Listen, I should go, but I’ll stop by later. I’ve got some stuff to do on campus.”

No sooner had she hung up with Willow and checked on the brewing coffee than she felt a tingle at the back of her neck.

“Best you ever had, eh?” he rumbled in her ear, sliding his hands around her waist from behind. He was naked, and his bare erection pressed against her ass.

Her eyes widened with embarrassment. “You were listening?”

“Vampire hearing. You might as well have stayed in the bedroom.”

“Oh, God,” she whimpered, her face flushing scarlet.

Spike grinned and kissed her throat. “Like hearing what you think of me, pet.”

Spinning around in his arms, Buffy just gave him a skeptical, amused look. “You just liked hearing that you’re better than Angel.”

He shrugged and did his best to appear modest and unconcerned, but it was a lost cause. “Well, yeah.”

“You’re impossible,” she replied, resting her forehead against his chest as her shoulders shook with giggles.

“’S why you like me.” With one hand, he loosened the belt of her robe, letting the folds fall open, pooling against her breasts. Running his fingertips over her bare skin, he asked, “Shall we finish what we started in here last night?”

“I can’t. I told Willow I’d be back on campus.”

“What’d you do that for?” His hand slid lower, parting her robe on his way down.

“I have things to do,” she protested, squirming away from his touch.

“So do I.” He scooped her up and deposited her on the breakfast bar. “Well, just one. But I intend to do it many, many times.”

“Spike! I mean it. I – oh. Ohh.”

“Yeah? You were saying?”

“Do that again.”

Spike obliged, tugging on her belt with his other hand until the loose knot unraveled completely and her robe slid open all the way. His eyes were slightly unfocused as he took in the sight of her splayed out on the countertop before him. “God, that’s a beautiful sight.”

Buffy blushed, the flush spreading down her throat and across her chest.

“Now, tell me again. What’s so important you’ve got to rush back to campus for?”

*****

Riley was seated at the foot of his bed, idly shooting baskets, when the door suddenly swung open, the toy basketball sailing straight into Buffy’s hands.

“Buffy. Hi,” he said, jumping to his feet, startled to see her.

“We need to talk.”