As In: To Swing?
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
16
Views:
9,178
Reviews:
96
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
16
Views:
9,178
Reviews:
96
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 10
A/N: Angel is an ass (yeah, he saves puppies. In my stories: ass.) and he says mean words. 'Cause he's an ass. I LOVE gays. And lesbians. And transgenders. And monkey fuckers. Wait, not them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 10
“I don’t know who the fuck they think they are, but if we don’t start beating them to the punch, all of our opportunities for expansion are gone.”
“Sir," Angel stammered, "they seem to have unlimited resources. They are signing before we even get our proposals on their desks.”
“This bank, “he shuffled papers around, “Bloodgood. Do you realize that they’ve bought half of downtown LA, four buildings in SoHo, and they already own half of London. And what do I have? A paper trail of our missed opportunities. What the hell are you people doing every day?”
He motioned for his assistant to have a car ready for him. “I expect to find out everything we can about this goddamn bank, what they are looking at, and why the fuck don’t we know other corporations are looking at what should be MY companies!”
Angel and his associates were left holding their asses. This day couldn’t get any worse. The whole department had their heads on the chopping block all because they did their homework. And some rich motherfucker from England didn’t. Apparently, he didn’t have to.
Bloodgood Bank was owned in its entirety by one individual who had unlimited buying power. It was as if he walked in, threw money on the table and walked out with the deed with no analysis, no prospectus... And it was about to cost Angel his job and career. Angel had worked hard to get to the position he was in. He had heard that he was close to being made a partner. All of the long hours, all of the missed vacations, weekends, sleep...
Unless they were able to turn a profit soon, Angel would be out the door and have nothing. He gathered up his papers and headed downstairs to catch a cab to his hotel. And to top it all off, he watched his wife get porked by some hair designer, or something. His fist smashed against the window of the cab.
“Hey! Take it easy, asshole. I’ll get you to your fucking hotel. Lay off the window, uh?”
Angel turned and looked out the window, biting his lip, his head resting on his fist. *Focus. Goddamn little bitch. Who the fuck was that clown? Whoever he is, I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him.*
The cab stopped. “Here you go, Tyson. $7.50. Don’t forget the tip.”
Angel threw a five and three ones up front. “Fuck off.”
The cab squealed out from the curb, a finger extended from the window.
*****************
“Thanks, mate. Here’s a bit for your trouble.” The delivery man looked at the folded bill and broke into a grin at the sight of the $50 bill.
“Soup’s on, babe.” Buffy brought out plates and napkins to the living room. They dug into the Chinese takeout like they hadn’t eaten in days. Spike kept stealing bites of her sesame chicken, and she retaliated by grabbing his last steamed dumpling.
“Hey?!”
“Hey, yourself.”
“Come here.” Spike leaned over and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Mmm. Plum sauce tastes good on you.”
Buffy couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so relaxed in her own home. After they made love earlier, they had curled up together on her bed and slept for hours. When they woke, they were ravenous. Buffy had made sure she called from a different restaurant than usual.
“Spike?”
“Yeah, love?”
“How is it that you are able to be here? I mean, all day. Don’t you work? I saw in the paper that you bought the lofts you live in, but don’t you have like, an office or something that's missing you?”
“I can be here because I want to be here. Nothing I hate more than sittin’ in some office with a bunch of stuffed shirts with their knickers in a twist about some report or some bollocks. I have people that do that for me, and I just sign the checks.”
“You are the first man I’ve met that isn’t obsessed with making money.”
“I’m obsessed with other things.” He smiled at her and took the plate from her hands. He laid back on the couch and pulled her on top of him, cradling her to his chest. “Sweetheart, I don’t want to let you go. I don’t like the idea of leaving you tomorrow. Let me meet this wanker you’re married to and beat the shit out of him for you. Make you feel better...”
She laughed. “A million no’s. Just - give me some time to figure out how to take care of this. You don’t know Angel. He’s very possessive about his things.”
Spike stilled his hands and said very quietly, “did you just call yourself a thing?”
Buffy nervously cried out, “I meant me. Me. He’s possessive. Period.”
“This bloody chit thinks he owns you. I saw the way he treated you. If I didn’t think you’d never speak to me again, I’d give him a proper ass kicking.”
Spike stood and offered his hand. She took it and was engulfed in his arms. She felt hard kisses to the top of her head. “You should be treated lgoldgold. He’s an idiot for not seeing how precious you are.” He pushed her back to look down into her face. “I’d never treat you less.”
She wanted to let him love her. She couldn’t imagine the happiness that she had felt with him ever going away. It frightened her to think about him leaving her, how bleak her life would be with Angel. Softly, she pressed her lips to his, fingers entwining with his. “I know.”
*****************
Angel was taking a shower in his hotel room after an hour of lifting weights in their gym. He rested his forearms on the cool tile letting the water wash over his face. He needed to stay up late and research this William Bloodgood and see what kind of holdings he had and try and determine his next move. *I’m not losing my job because of some fucking fag from England. Probably has bad teeth. Skinny, and takes it up the ass.*
He thought back to what he had seen earlier that day and started fuming again. He soaped his chest, muttering about “that filthy bitch” and soaped himself a little lower. He started imagining what he was going to do to her to make her pay while gripping himself. *Take her car away. Fucking make her lick the counter clean, lazy shit*
He was pulling on himself furiously now and he thought back to the sight of that man fucking her while she was on all fours. He couldn’t see his face, only the platinum blonde hair *faggot* the well chiseled muscles, the voice ‘God, Buffy I could fuck you all day.’
The voice. The voice with an accent. A British accent. He thought back to the picture of his company’s competitor listed in the paper as a wealthy, sexy man from England.
“FUCK ME!!!” He pounded his fist into the wall as he felt his ejaculate spurt out. “Oh, God, no.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TBC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 10
“I don’t know who the fuck they think they are, but if we don’t start beating them to the punch, all of our opportunities for expansion are gone.”
“Sir," Angel stammered, "they seem to have unlimited resources. They are signing before we even get our proposals on their desks.”
“This bank, “he shuffled papers around, “Bloodgood. Do you realize that they’ve bought half of downtown LA, four buildings in SoHo, and they already own half of London. And what do I have? A paper trail of our missed opportunities. What the hell are you people doing every day?”
He motioned for his assistant to have a car ready for him. “I expect to find out everything we can about this goddamn bank, what they are looking at, and why the fuck don’t we know other corporations are looking at what should be MY companies!”
Angel and his associates were left holding their asses. This day couldn’t get any worse. The whole department had their heads on the chopping block all because they did their homework. And some rich motherfucker from England didn’t. Apparently, he didn’t have to.
Bloodgood Bank was owned in its entirety by one individual who had unlimited buying power. It was as if he walked in, threw money on the table and walked out with the deed with no analysis, no prospectus... And it was about to cost Angel his job and career. Angel had worked hard to get to the position he was in. He had heard that he was close to being made a partner. All of the long hours, all of the missed vacations, weekends, sleep...
Unless they were able to turn a profit soon, Angel would be out the door and have nothing. He gathered up his papers and headed downstairs to catch a cab to his hotel. And to top it all off, he watched his wife get porked by some hair designer, or something. His fist smashed against the window of the cab.
“Hey! Take it easy, asshole. I’ll get you to your fucking hotel. Lay off the window, uh?”
Angel turned and looked out the window, biting his lip, his head resting on his fist. *Focus. Goddamn little bitch. Who the fuck was that clown? Whoever he is, I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him.*
The cab stopped. “Here you go, Tyson. $7.50. Don’t forget the tip.”
Angel threw a five and three ones up front. “Fuck off.”
The cab squealed out from the curb, a finger extended from the window.
*****************
“Thanks, mate. Here’s a bit for your trouble.” The delivery man looked at the folded bill and broke into a grin at the sight of the $50 bill.
“Soup’s on, babe.” Buffy brought out plates and napkins to the living room. They dug into the Chinese takeout like they hadn’t eaten in days. Spike kept stealing bites of her sesame chicken, and she retaliated by grabbing his last steamed dumpling.
“Hey?!”
“Hey, yourself.”
“Come here.” Spike leaned over and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Mmm. Plum sauce tastes good on you.”
Buffy couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so relaxed in her own home. After they made love earlier, they had curled up together on her bed and slept for hours. When they woke, they were ravenous. Buffy had made sure she called from a different restaurant than usual.
“Spike?”
“Yeah, love?”
“How is it that you are able to be here? I mean, all day. Don’t you work? I saw in the paper that you bought the lofts you live in, but don’t you have like, an office or something that's missing you?”
“I can be here because I want to be here. Nothing I hate more than sittin’ in some office with a bunch of stuffed shirts with their knickers in a twist about some report or some bollocks. I have people that do that for me, and I just sign the checks.”
“You are the first man I’ve met that isn’t obsessed with making money.”
“I’m obsessed with other things.” He smiled at her and took the plate from her hands. He laid back on the couch and pulled her on top of him, cradling her to his chest. “Sweetheart, I don’t want to let you go. I don’t like the idea of leaving you tomorrow. Let me meet this wanker you’re married to and beat the shit out of him for you. Make you feel better...”
She laughed. “A million no’s. Just - give me some time to figure out how to take care of this. You don’t know Angel. He’s very possessive about his things.”
Spike stilled his hands and said very quietly, “did you just call yourself a thing?”
Buffy nervously cried out, “I meant me. Me. He’s possessive. Period.”
“This bloody chit thinks he owns you. I saw the way he treated you. If I didn’t think you’d never speak to me again, I’d give him a proper ass kicking.”
Spike stood and offered his hand. She took it and was engulfed in his arms. She felt hard kisses to the top of her head. “You should be treated lgoldgold. He’s an idiot for not seeing how precious you are.” He pushed her back to look down into her face. “I’d never treat you less.”
She wanted to let him love her. She couldn’t imagine the happiness that she had felt with him ever going away. It frightened her to think about him leaving her, how bleak her life would be with Angel. Softly, she pressed her lips to his, fingers entwining with his. “I know.”
*****************
Angel was taking a shower in his hotel room after an hour of lifting weights in their gym. He rested his forearms on the cool tile letting the water wash over his face. He needed to stay up late and research this William Bloodgood and see what kind of holdings he had and try and determine his next move. *I’m not losing my job because of some fucking fag from England. Probably has bad teeth. Skinny, and takes it up the ass.*
He thought back to what he had seen earlier that day and started fuming again. He soaped his chest, muttering about “that filthy bitch” and soaped himself a little lower. He started imagining what he was going to do to her to make her pay while gripping himself. *Take her car away. Fucking make her lick the counter clean, lazy shit*
He was pulling on himself furiously now and he thought back to the sight of that man fucking her while she was on all fours. He couldn’t see his face, only the platinum blonde hair *faggot* the well chiseled muscles, the voice ‘God, Buffy I could fuck you all day.’
The voice. The voice with an accent. A British accent. He thought back to the picture of his company’s competitor listed in the paper as a wealthy, sexy man from England.
“FUCK ME!!!” He pounded his fist into the wall as he felt his ejaculate spurt out. “Oh, God, no.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TBC