As In: To Swing?
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
16
Views:
9,174
Reviews:
96
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
16
Views:
9,174
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 6
Anyone seen the icon for Summer of Spike on LJ? That's the inspriation for Buffy's clipping here. Mmmm. Punk Spike.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 6
By the time Buffy had woken up, half the morning had already gone. She entered the kitchen to find the coffee pot had already turned off. She dumped the old grinds, made a new pot and waited. On the fridge was a note:
B
Where the fuck did you go last night?
Waited up ‘til 3.
If you’re done sulking call my office.
A
“So not having that conversation. Sulking? Jackass.”
The little nudge of guilt she had been harboring in the back of her mind was fading fast. grabgrabbed the paper, and sat on the patio. She flipped to the Metro section and there he was. Under the photo was a caption:
Wealthy Brit takes over lofts on Main from floundering banks: and ladies, he’s single!
He was apparently not aware that his photo was taken, but didn’t suffer for it. H e was wearing black form-fitting jeans, a tight, sleeveless T-shirt that showed off his perfectly muscled forearms, and his bleached hair was spiked up in disarray. *He looks like I left him last night. Except with clothes, didn’t leave him wearing any of those...*
He had his head turned to the side and was laughing. Apparently it was something naughty; he had his tongue sticking out from his teeth, and his eyes were narrowed with mischief. Buffy nibbled on her thumb nail, trying to control her smile at how dead sexy he looked. Her eyes moved below it to re-read the caption. *Bought the lofts, huh? Single? No one had better lay a FINGER on him.*
She was startled by her jealousy. She had no right to claim him for herself when she was married. *To a ‘fuckin’ stupid git’ but married, still.* She felt giddy thinking about Spike telling her that. The phone rang in the background, breaking her reverie.
“Buffy, Christ, are you still mad at me? Is that why you haven’t called yet? When did you get home last night?”
“Good morning to you, too. I haven’t called because I haven’t called. Reading the paper, drinking my coffee.”
“For Christ’s sake it’s almost 10:30. I sure wish I could have the luxury of laying about, doing nothing all day, but someone has to work and pay for that life.”
Buffy looked at her watch. “I had thirteen minutes of not being yelled at. That must be a record. Let’s not forget that you were the one that made me quit my job. You are the one that didn’t want your wife working. You are the climber that wanted us to look like we had the life of your partners, so don’t start with me.”
“Buffy, I’m at work. I can’t have these arguments when I’m here, it isn’t professional. Just have shit cleaned up and be ready to meet me for dinner. I’ll have a car pick you up at 8.”
It took all her will power to not slam the phone down.
“You called me!! Oh, I HATE it when he turns the fight around on me.” She ripped out the picture and hid it in her lingerie drawer. *Not like he ever looks there.* She changed into some running clothes and tried to burn off some excess energy.
****************
Buffy was dressed to kill by 7:58. It was rare when Angel took her out, and she wanted to enjoy it. She saw a sleek black car pull up outside and the driver get out to ring the door. She snatched her purse off the table, gave herself a quick check in the mirror and left. She locked the door and turned to head down the walk.
The driver pulled his hat off his head. “Ma’am. This way, please,” and held her door. A quick adjust to the front of his pants and he climbed in. He stole glances into the rearview mirror at his beautiful passenger. She had one arm draped over the back of the seat, the other holding her small clutch in her lap. Her head was turned to look outside. He followed the slim line of her neck down to the deep plunging neckline of her dress, which didn’t leave much to the imagination. The dark brown silk outlined the shape of her breasts, and the deep V let him see that she was still young and firm enough to not need *ahem* support. She crossed her legs, and he adjusted the mirror to see if... She looked right at him.
“Almost there?” She smiled and pulled the hem of her skirt to reach to her knees.
“Just about,” he croaked. *Drive, shithead. Think about those long tan legs wrapped around you later.* Heppedpped a little harder on the gas needing to get her out of his car before he wrecked.
Angel was waiting outside the restaurant witha couple. Apparently he had invited his boss and wife to join them. Geoffrey Baxter was one of the senior partners at Angel’s company and she had heard about how he was Angel’s ticket to wealth ad nauseam. The portly woman swaddled in floral cotton with a doily around her neck must be Mrs. Geoffrey. *Oh, this should be fun.* She silently cursed herself for dressing the way she did. Somehow she didn’t think the Christian Coalition in front of her would think her 4 inch Jimmy Choos and sleek, backless dress were appropriate wife attire.
The driver helped her out with one last vain attempt to see her perky...
“Dear? I’d like you to meet Geoffrey Baxter and his wife Cookie.” *And I get shit for Buffy??!*
“How nice to meet you.” Geoffrey looked at her with a stern smile, as if he was her father. Cookie seemed afraid to take her hand.
“Buffy, you must be cold in that. Angel, give your lovely wife your jacket. This night air can just cut right through you.”
Buffy pasted a smile on her face, took her husband’s arm, and followed the Baxters to the maitre ‘d. Buffy had read about this place, but never thought Angel would take her to such a hot spot. It seemed a little hip for this particular party, which was confirmed by the frightened look on the Baxters’ faces when they wa in. in. The bar took up the whole floor downstairs where loud rock music played and young professionals came to shed their lives for a night.
Angel slid a folded bill to the maitre ‘d and requested a quieter table in one of the reserved rooms upstairs. They were seated and began to give their drink orders. A bottle of wine was dismissed by the older couple with horror at the thought of liquor to their chaste lips, and Buffy regretted the offer. Angel kicked her shin under the table.
“Just shut up and look pretty, “ he snarked under his breath.
The Baxters began regaling them with stories of their children, the good work they did in the name of Jesus, and how He in his infinite wisdom had granted them wealth so they could bestow it on His masses.
After the a while, Buffy excused herself to “freshen up.” She made her way downstairs, walked right up to the bar and ordered a shot.
“Of what?”
“Does it matter?”
He laughed and made something quickly for her and put it down in front of her. “That’s on me, babe. Saw the couple you came in with. What are they, missionaries or something?”
“Nope.” She tossed it back. “Husband’s boss. One more, please.”
“That one’s on me. Pet, we keep meeting like this, and people will say we’re in love.”
She could feel every inch of her skin burn with the heat of his gaze before she turned around.
“And I thought you couldn’t possibly be more attractive than when you were naked. I might just have to keep your clothes on next time.” Spike leaned back, eyes sparkling with laughter as he lit a smoke. “You here with the ‘rents?” He indicated upstairs with his chin.
It took her a second to remember how to talk. She felt the bartender open her hand and push the shot glass into it. Buffy tossed it back, made a “ewwwahhh” noise *what do these guys keep making for me?* and said, “no, my husband’s boss. Oh, god. My husband. I’ve been gone too long and he’ll get pissed.”
He came close, parted her legs and stood between them, hiking her skirt up with his hands. He traced her ear with his tongue and said, “let him be pissed. I’ve been thinking of you all day.” He knew he had her when he felt her hands reach up and pull on his shirt sleeves.
“I’ll give you thirty minutes. I don’t care what you tell that git, you meet me down here in thirty minutes.”
“Oooh ‘kaaay.” He was doing something to her ear that made her squirm on her chair. “Where here?”
He pulled back from her, took her chin in his hand and turned her to face an alcove under the stairs.
“Thirty minutes. I want you.”
He turned away and walked back to a group of people he must have come with. The bartender was trying to act busy wiping the counter. The counter was starting to wear away. Buffy stood, held on to the counter, took a deep breath and ran up the stairs, taking two at a time. *Okay. What’s fast? Salad’s fast. Soup’s faster. Cup of soup, no crackers.*
She slowed down, straightened her dress and walked back to the table, delighted to see the waiter taking everyone’s order. Buffy flashed the group a bright smile, “Sorry, long line at the ladies. I’ll have a cup of whatever the soup du jour is, thanks.”
Cookie thought to herself, that’s why she’s so thin, poor dear. I thought girls got out of that once they married. A few babies’ll fatten her up. She smiled to herself thinking of her own family, then dug in with both hands to the bread the waiter had left for the table.
~~~~~~~~~
If anyone's interested in notification for chpt. updates, I'm now on LJ: Stoney321
~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 6
By the time Buffy had woken up, half the morning had already gone. She entered the kitchen to find the coffee pot had already turned off. She dumped the old grinds, made a new pot and waited. On the fridge was a note:
B
Where the fuck did you go last night?
Waited up ‘til 3.
If you’re done sulking call my office.
A
“So not having that conversation. Sulking? Jackass.”
The little nudge of guilt she had been harboring in the back of her mind was fading fast. grabgrabbed the paper, and sat on the patio. She flipped to the Metro section and there he was. Under the photo was a caption:
Wealthy Brit takes over lofts on Main from floundering banks: and ladies, he’s single!
He was apparently not aware that his photo was taken, but didn’t suffer for it. H e was wearing black form-fitting jeans, a tight, sleeveless T-shirt that showed off his perfectly muscled forearms, and his bleached hair was spiked up in disarray. *He looks like I left him last night. Except with clothes, didn’t leave him wearing any of those...*
He had his head turned to the side and was laughing. Apparently it was something naughty; he had his tongue sticking out from his teeth, and his eyes were narrowed with mischief. Buffy nibbled on her thumb nail, trying to control her smile at how dead sexy he looked. Her eyes moved below it to re-read the caption. *Bought the lofts, huh? Single? No one had better lay a FINGER on him.*
She was startled by her jealousy. She had no right to claim him for herself when she was married. *To a ‘fuckin’ stupid git’ but married, still.* She felt giddy thinking about Spike telling her that. The phone rang in the background, breaking her reverie.
“Buffy, Christ, are you still mad at me? Is that why you haven’t called yet? When did you get home last night?”
“Good morning to you, too. I haven’t called because I haven’t called. Reading the paper, drinking my coffee.”
“For Christ’s sake it’s almost 10:30. I sure wish I could have the luxury of laying about, doing nothing all day, but someone has to work and pay for that life.”
Buffy looked at her watch. “I had thirteen minutes of not being yelled at. That must be a record. Let’s not forget that you were the one that made me quit my job. You are the one that didn’t want your wife working. You are the climber that wanted us to look like we had the life of your partners, so don’t start with me.”
“Buffy, I’m at work. I can’t have these arguments when I’m here, it isn’t professional. Just have shit cleaned up and be ready to meet me for dinner. I’ll have a car pick you up at 8.”
It took all her will power to not slam the phone down.
“You called me!! Oh, I HATE it when he turns the fight around on me.” She ripped out the picture and hid it in her lingerie drawer. *Not like he ever looks there.* She changed into some running clothes and tried to burn off some excess energy.
****************
Buffy was dressed to kill by 7:58. It was rare when Angel took her out, and she wanted to enjoy it. She saw a sleek black car pull up outside and the driver get out to ring the door. She snatched her purse off the table, gave herself a quick check in the mirror and left. She locked the door and turned to head down the walk.
The driver pulled his hat off his head. “Ma’am. This way, please,” and held her door. A quick adjust to the front of his pants and he climbed in. He stole glances into the rearview mirror at his beautiful passenger. She had one arm draped over the back of the seat, the other holding her small clutch in her lap. Her head was turned to look outside. He followed the slim line of her neck down to the deep plunging neckline of her dress, which didn’t leave much to the imagination. The dark brown silk outlined the shape of her breasts, and the deep V let him see that she was still young and firm enough to not need *ahem* support. She crossed her legs, and he adjusted the mirror to see if... She looked right at him.
“Almost there?” She smiled and pulled the hem of her skirt to reach to her knees.
“Just about,” he croaked. *Drive, shithead. Think about those long tan legs wrapped around you later.* Heppedpped a little harder on the gas needing to get her out of his car before he wrecked.
Angel was waiting outside the restaurant witha couple. Apparently he had invited his boss and wife to join them. Geoffrey Baxter was one of the senior partners at Angel’s company and she had heard about how he was Angel’s ticket to wealth ad nauseam. The portly woman swaddled in floral cotton with a doily around her neck must be Mrs. Geoffrey. *Oh, this should be fun.* She silently cursed herself for dressing the way she did. Somehow she didn’t think the Christian Coalition in front of her would think her 4 inch Jimmy Choos and sleek, backless dress were appropriate wife attire.
The driver helped her out with one last vain attempt to see her perky...
“Dear? I’d like you to meet Geoffrey Baxter and his wife Cookie.” *And I get shit for Buffy??!*
“How nice to meet you.” Geoffrey looked at her with a stern smile, as if he was her father. Cookie seemed afraid to take her hand.
“Buffy, you must be cold in that. Angel, give your lovely wife your jacket. This night air can just cut right through you.”
Buffy pasted a smile on her face, took her husband’s arm, and followed the Baxters to the maitre ‘d. Buffy had read about this place, but never thought Angel would take her to such a hot spot. It seemed a little hip for this particular party, which was confirmed by the frightened look on the Baxters’ faces when they wa in. in. The bar took up the whole floor downstairs where loud rock music played and young professionals came to shed their lives for a night.
Angel slid a folded bill to the maitre ‘d and requested a quieter table in one of the reserved rooms upstairs. They were seated and began to give their drink orders. A bottle of wine was dismissed by the older couple with horror at the thought of liquor to their chaste lips, and Buffy regretted the offer. Angel kicked her shin under the table.
“Just shut up and look pretty, “ he snarked under his breath.
The Baxters began regaling them with stories of their children, the good work they did in the name of Jesus, and how He in his infinite wisdom had granted them wealth so they could bestow it on His masses.
After the a while, Buffy excused herself to “freshen up.” She made her way downstairs, walked right up to the bar and ordered a shot.
“Of what?”
“Does it matter?”
He laughed and made something quickly for her and put it down in front of her. “That’s on me, babe. Saw the couple you came in with. What are they, missionaries or something?”
“Nope.” She tossed it back. “Husband’s boss. One more, please.”
“That one’s on me. Pet, we keep meeting like this, and people will say we’re in love.”
She could feel every inch of her skin burn with the heat of his gaze before she turned around.
“And I thought you couldn’t possibly be more attractive than when you were naked. I might just have to keep your clothes on next time.” Spike leaned back, eyes sparkling with laughter as he lit a smoke. “You here with the ‘rents?” He indicated upstairs with his chin.
It took her a second to remember how to talk. She felt the bartender open her hand and push the shot glass into it. Buffy tossed it back, made a “ewwwahhh” noise *what do these guys keep making for me?* and said, “no, my husband’s boss. Oh, god. My husband. I’ve been gone too long and he’ll get pissed.”
He came close, parted her legs and stood between them, hiking her skirt up with his hands. He traced her ear with his tongue and said, “let him be pissed. I’ve been thinking of you all day.” He knew he had her when he felt her hands reach up and pull on his shirt sleeves.
“I’ll give you thirty minutes. I don’t care what you tell that git, you meet me down here in thirty minutes.”
“Oooh ‘kaaay.” He was doing something to her ear that made her squirm on her chair. “Where here?”
He pulled back from her, took her chin in his hand and turned her to face an alcove under the stairs.
“Thirty minutes. I want you.”
He turned away and walked back to a group of people he must have come with. The bartender was trying to act busy wiping the counter. The counter was starting to wear away. Buffy stood, held on to the counter, took a deep breath and ran up the stairs, taking two at a time. *Okay. What’s fast? Salad’s fast. Soup’s faster. Cup of soup, no crackers.*
She slowed down, straightened her dress and walked back to the table, delighted to see the waiter taking everyone’s order. Buffy flashed the group a bright smile, “Sorry, long line at the ladies. I’ll have a cup of whatever the soup du jour is, thanks.”
Cookie thought to herself, that’s why she’s so thin, poor dear. I thought girls got out of that once they married. A few babies’ll fatten her up. She smiled to herself thinking of her own family, then dug in with both hands to the bread the waiter had left for the table.
~~~~~~~~~
If anyone's interested in notification for chpt. updates, I'm now on LJ: Stoney321