Untouched

Spike opened his eyes to see the blonde beauty standing in his doorway. She was dressed in a thin white sundress, her hair loose around her shoulders.



“What are you doing, pet?” He sat up, smoothing a hand through his curls, and waited for an answer. She leaned against the door frame, running one hand up along the engraved wood.



“Coming to see you.” She chewed on her lower lip, a habit Spike had witnessed often over the last week he’d known her.



“Why is that?” He suddenly became aware of his own nudity, hidden only by the black jersey sheet covering his lower half. She padded toward him, bare feet with red-painted toenails.



“I want you, Spike.” She was at the edge of the bed, hovering above him.



“I want you too, Buffy.” He watched in awe as she lifted the hem of her dress, tossing it over her head, leaving her nude body bathed in the soft light coming from his bedside lamp. She crawled across the sheets like a feline, her knees settling on either side of his hips. Then she leaned down and gave him the most fantastic, mind-blowing, skin-melting kiss he’d ever had.



The slam of a car door outside awoke Spike with a start. He blinked open his eyes, stretching his arms over his head. That had been some dream. He stood, wrapping his sheet around his waist and opened the curtains of his window. His father’s car was parked in the driveway, piled high with luggage. Angel was conversing amiably with Giles and Jenny. A blonde head of hair suddenly entered the picture. Buffy was dressed in a calf-length black pea coat, black flats, and a black headband, holding her waves back from the gentle east coast breeze. He watched as her hand found it’s place in the crook of Angel’s arm. Angel spun and kissed her daintily on the nose. He said something to her, hugged Jenny goodbye, and got into the backseat of the car as Giles took the driver’s seat. Buffy stood on the driveway, alone, as if waiting for something. Then she turned her gaze, her eyes flitting up to Spike’s bedroom window as if she knew she was being watched. Her bright green eyes widened at his stare and she gave him a look he could only describe as tragic. Her left hand fluttered at her side, as if she was debating whether or not to wave goodbye. And then she turned away, opened the car door, and slipped inside.



Spike watched the car pull out of the driveway, his heart thumping in anticipation. What did he think was going to happen? That the next morning she’d confess feelings for him? That she’d dump Angel on the spot? Of course not. He was a mistake. Buffy’s mistake. Just like he’d been Dru’s mistake.



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“I can’t believe how stupid I was,” Buffy hung her head low, her bare feet dangling against the dorm room carpet as she recounted the Thanksgiving events to her roommate.



“We all make mistakes, Buffy.” Willow said thoughtfully. “You can’t beat yourself up over it.”



“I sure can. I’m all about beating up Buffy at the moment. It’s like the theme of my life.”



“One bad night. It’s not like you are having an affair with this guy---what was his name again?”



“Spike.”



“Right. Spike. Anyway, you love Angel. And you feel bad for what you did, and you’ve learned from it. You’re only human.”



“I know. But Angel can tell something’s up. But I can’t tell him. He won’t even touch me for fear of ruining my virtue….I can only imagine what he’d do if he found out I almost let his step-brother do it for him.”



“You know what you need? A little fun, for once. We are Bronzing it tonight, no excuses!”



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Spike sat on the dilapidated couch and thumbed at his guitar. The chord came out brassy and metallic.



“Dude--what is up with you?” Clem asked, his stringy black hair falling into his eyes. Frank Clement was Spike’s only real friend, and the drummer of Spike’s band, Vampire.



“Seriously, Spike. You’re killing the vibe.” Hallie, a curly haired brunette looked up from her bass guitar.



“Jus’ need a break is all.” Spike set his Gibson down and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. “A nice smoke and I’ll focus.”



“Spike..” Hallie plopped down on the couch next to him and pulled out a tube of red lipstick. She smoothed the crimson color over her lips and smacked. “What’s got you down?”



“Jus’ had a hell of a week with the family is all.” Spike took a drag of his cigarette. “But now Angel and his brat of a girlfriend are back in California and things can finally get back to normal.”



“Are you talking about the blonde girl who was with Angel at Gunn’s party last week? Smokin’ man.” Clem licked his lower lip and wagged his eyebrows suggestively.



“Yeah, if bitchy, bossy, and prude is your style, spose’ so.”



“Those things can be overlooked, my man.” Spike couldn’t help but laugh. Clem had been convinced he was a playboy since the 7th grade, but nothing could be further from the truth. If his greasy hair wasn’t enough to scare off the ladies, his pock-marked face certainly was.



“Not if the aforementioned face won’t shut it’s giant, gaping hole.”



“You’re harboring some serious resentment for this girl. It’s not healthy.” Clem frowned at his buddy.



Probably not, Spike thought. But it’s better than thinking about her all God damn day.



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The pulsating lights made Buffy’s whole body twitch as she sipped on her virgin pina colada. She had pretty much sworn off alcohol after the past disastrous week in New York. Willow was seated across the round table with her boyfriend of almost a year, Oz. Oz was sporting purple tips in his hair today---something that changed almost weekly. Next to Willow and Oz were the other “It” couple of the group, Xander and Anya. Buffy was suddenly aware of how alone she felt in this mess of coupledom.



“So, Buff, where’s Captain Cardboard tonight?” Xander inquired, his tone full of dislike.



“Easy, Xan,” Buffy warned. Xander had always had it out for Angel, though she could never figure out why. “And Angel’s got some football stuff. You know, practice or something.” Buffy shrugged. To be honest, she wasn’t completely sure what Angel was doing. When she’d invited him, he’d mumbled something about a team meeting and Buffy didn’t pry. Being around Angel at the moment was too awkward anyway.



“If there’s football stuff going on, why is Riley Finn here tonight?” Anya asked curiously. Buffy knew she wasn’t the suspicious type, just the kind of person to point out the obvious. Buffy ‘s eyes darted across the club where she spotted three of Angel’s teammates---Riley Finn, Parker Abrams, and Graham Miller.



“I guess I’ll find out.” Buffy scooted off the bar stool and marched across the club, drink in hand. Hey guys!” She said as she approached the trio.



“Buffy! Hey!” Riley smiled at her. Buffy knew he’d always had a little crush on her and he always seemed nothing short of delighted to see her. Parker and Graham, who were less friendly with her, smiled cordially in her direction.



“How was your team meeting?”



“Meeting?” Riley looked around, confused. “You mean before Fall break?”



“No, I mean tonight.” Riley shuffled on his feet for a second.



“We didn’t have a meeting tonight, Buffy. You must be mistaken.”



“Oh,” Buffy chewed on her straw for a second. “Well, I must be confused. Sorry guys.”



“No problem. Always good to see a friendly face in a place like this.” Riley smiled that Iowa boy smile.



“Well, I’ll see you later.” Buffy backed up and turned around, heading back to her table.



“What do you think that was all about?” Graham inquired, his intense eyes narrowing towards the retreating figure.



“Probably just trying to make conversation.” Riley smiled and grabbed a pool stick from the wall.



“Sounds like Angel tried to feed her some sort of story,” Parker smiled wickedly, “That’s my boy.”



“I don’t think Angel would do that to Buffy, Parker.”



“Whatever, Finn. Just because you’re white-bread doesn’t mean we all are. You didn’t know Angel last year.”



“What’s that supposed to mean?”



“Angel wasn’t always so monogamous, this is a new development. He used to be the man. New girls every night.”



“I hardly classify that as the man.” Riley rolled his eyes and looked at Buffy, who was now dancing across the room in a crowd of friends. Riley was well-aware that his unrequited crush was never going anywhere, but it didn’t stop him from having her best interests at heart.



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Buffy and Willow entered the dorm room shortly after one am, their hair mussed from too much dancing and makeup smudged.



“God, I smell like a hockey player.” Buffy giggled as she collapsed onto her bed.



“And I look like one,” Willow laughed as she pulled her fingers through the sweaty mass of red hair.



“Thanks for forcing me to go out, Will. I had a good time.” Buffy kicked off her shoes and changed into her pajamas. Suddenly her cell phone started to ring. She grabbed it out of her purse---it was a number she definitely didn’t recognize. “Hello?”



“Hello.” A smooth British voice replied.



“Who is this?” Buffy asked, though deep-down she felt very sure of who was calling.



“Don’t be daft, Summers.” Buffy grimaced and slipped out of the room, mouthing to Willow that she’d be right back. Once safely in the hallway, she spoke again.



“Spike?”



“The one and only.”



“Why are you calling me? And how did you get my number?”



“It’s listed on the school website. You should really be careful about that, might get all sorts of strangers callin’ you up.”



“Um, like you?”



“I’m no stranger. At least I wasn’t a few nights ago…”



“Do not talk about that ever again or I’ll fly back to New York and give you a good ass kicking.”



“I’m shakin’ in my combat boots.”



“Seriously, Spike, why are you calling me?”



“Just fancied a chat, that’s all.”



“A chat? About what? What is there that we could possibly talk about? We had one night together which meant absolutely nothing to either of us. There’s nothing to say. I don’t know if this is you feeling guilty or just trying to mess with my head, but forget it, Spike.” Buffy listened to the stunned silence on the other end of the phone.



“You’re right. Just because we shared one very mediocre night together doesn’t change the fact that you’re still a pretentious, stuck-up little brat.”



“Mediocre?” Buffy’s shocked voice resounded through the hallway.



“Yeah, that’s what I said. Now I’ve got more important things to do than talk to some Beverly Hills bitch like yourself.”



“Fine!” Buffy hung up the phone and stamped her foot in frustration. “I’ve never even been to Beverly Hills!” Buffy protested to no one in particular. A boy who was reading in the common room down the hall gave her a strange look and she shrugged, dashing back into the dorm room.



“What was that all about?” Willow asked as Buffy tossed her cell phone into her purse and plopped down on the bed.



“Just some random caller harassing me. That’s what I get for letting the school list my cell on the online contacts page.”



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Spike stared down at the phone in his hand. His fist crumpled in rage. How dare she? He glared back into the bar where he’d been romancing a random blonde named Kathy or something (thank God for fake Ids). He’d grown bored of her insipid stories and after about twenty minutes and four beers, ducked into the back area to call Buffy. He wasn’t sure why he’d thought the notion was a good one, but he was glad he called. Kathy seemed like a sweetheart compared to the bint he’d just been conversing with. He stepped back into the bar and sidled down next to the woman, who was dressed in a purple tube top and black short shorts. Spike wondered if she was freezing in the crisp December air.



“Sorry, pet. Had to make that call.”



“It’s okay, baby.” Kathy looked up at him with wide blue eyes, hazy from too much alcohol. She smelled of cheap perfume and stale smoke, but she was still reasonably attractive. “So anyway, I was telling you all about my Pomeranian, Honey Dew.”



“Uh, yeah. Say doll, why don’t we head back to your place?”







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Saturday night was the first time Angel and Buffy had really hung out since their return from New York. Angel kept claiming football meetings, enough so that Buffy was doubtful it was simply a miscommunication. How many things could be categorized as a “football meeting” after all?



On this particular evening, they were sitting at a small coffee shop near campus--Angel sipping on a black coffee and Buffy indulging in a hot chocolate. She was never one for caffeine---she was neurotic enough without it.



“So, how was your meeting?” Buffy sipped on her drink and grabbed a biscotti from the canister between them.



“It was okay.”



“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” Buffy cocked her head at him and grabbed for his hand, squeezing it.



“I know, I’m sorry. I just feel like you’ve been distant since we got back from New York, Buffy. I feel like I’ve done something to upset you.” Buffy swallowed the guilt that was rising up her esophagus in the form of bile.



“You didn’t do anything wrong, Angel. It’s my fault. I’ve just been…stressed. No big deal.”



“I understand. Anyway, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”



“Oh, yeah?” Buffy sighed, relieved that he had bought her extremely vague excuse.



“Are you going to be around for Christmas break this year?”



“Probably. Mom’s got another big gallery thing in Aspen and my dad is probably vacationing in some tropic locale with his new Stepford wife.”



“Good, because it turns out that my mom and Giles are coming out for the break.”



“Oh,” Buffy smiled weakly.



“They’re going to be staying at the Sunnydale Grand so they’ll only be a five minute walk from campus. Isn’t that great?”



“Yeah. Where will Spike be staying?” Buffy’s eyelashes fluttered down as she said his name.



“Oh, Spike? He’s not coming. Don’t worry, baby. I know you two don’t get along.”



“Oh, it’s not that--”



“It’s okay. He’s hard to get along with, I understand…believe me.” Buffy felt a huge weight liftoff of her shoulders. She liked Giles and Jenny---and as long as Spike wasn’t going to be in the picture, she could imagine the four of them would have a really nice holiday together. Plus, hanging out at the Sunnydale Grand? Swanky!