Breathless

The alarm clock buzzed loudly, calling Buffy from a restless slumber. Groggily, she snaked her arm out from under the covers and slapped at the annoyance until the incessant noise came to an end. With a loud groan, Buffy emerged her tousled head from its sanctuary under the pillow and studied the glowing numbers on the clock, it had only been three hours since she had fallen into bed with tears streaming down her face. Pushing her self out of the bed, she staggered towards the bathroom tugging at the zipper on her wrinkled red dress. With one last effort, she was finally free of the garment and stepping into a hot shower. She stayed there, water pounding full force on her head and rolling down her back until it turned cold, alternating between washing and crying. She had never been so embarrassed and ashamed of her actions before; nor had she ever been that aroused. Thinking about her passionate tryst with the sexy stranger had her cheeks flushed and the tingling between her thighs had returned. It was at that moment that Buffy realized she didn’t even know her captors name. A fresh wave of tears began and she slowly climbed out of the frigid shower . After wrapping her hair in a turban, Buffy bundled herself in a pink fluffy robe climbed back into her warm bed; her body still partially wet. For the first time since beginning her job at Hemery, she called in sick and went back to sleep.

Several hours later, she was awakened again by a shrill noise. This time it was the telephone. Annoyed, she quickly pulled the handset under the covers with her and groggily said, “Hello?” On the other end was Robin Wood, the principal at Hemery, calling to check on her. Even though he made sure to assert the fact that he always called and checked on sick employees, Bufy felt sure his actions were due to the mild flirtations they had engaged in since she was hired. She assured him she was doing better and promised to go see a doctor if her condition worsened, thinking at the same time she didn’t know which type of caregiver she would need for this particular illness. Finally, she was able to get him off the phone and retreat back into her haven.

It was nearing four in the afternoon when she forced herself to crawl back out of the bed. The band was meeting in an hour to rehearse a new song and she was already running late. With barely a glance in the mirror, she tugged on some clothes that had been carelessly tossed on the floor and gathered her hair in a knot at the nape of her neck. Unable to function at anything other than a snail‘s pace, she grabbed her keys and headed towards the office.

As usual, Buffy was the last to arrive. When she entered the room, the aroma of food wafted into her nose, causing her stomach to churn. The effects of last nights alcohol consumption made her nauseous from the smell, but the lack of food in her system also had her tummy growling in anticipation. Studying the cart, she settled on a croissant and water and wandered over to her band mates. She mumbled a quick hello and settled herself on the couch, waiting for her cue to begin practice.

Faith eyed her cautiously, wondering what had the usually perky Buffy so miserable. With a gleam in her eye, Faith remembered Buffy’s late dinner date with Riley. Grinning, she asked “B, you look like hell. Did Riley wear you out last night?” She sauntered over to where her friend was sprawled on the sofa and perched on the arm rest. Buffy quietly mumbled that Riley had nothing to do with her condition, she just didn’t feel well today. “Right,” Faith laughed and pointed towards Buffy‘s neck, “Sick, huh? Looks more like you were bit by something or someone last night!”

A look of alarm crossed Buffy’s face. “What are you talking about, Faith?!” She jumped off the couch, her hands covering her neck, and crossed the room to look in the mirror. She gasped in horror when she noticed a red bruise hovering around the area of her jugular. ‘Holy shit!’ she thought to herself. Grimacing, she turned back to Faith and asked, “Would you believe it was a hair styling mishap?”

Shaking her head at her shocked friend, Faith chuckled and said, ”Not even if pigs flew through the room right now Buffy would I believe that a curling iron did that to your neck. So, if Riley wasn’t the culprit, who was? “

“No one you know.” Buffy muttered, thinking to herself that even she didn’t know who was to blame. It was then that Xander and Oz decided to join the conversation, poking fun at her juvenile hickey. Buffy groaned some more, as if the shame she was experiencing wasn’t bad enough now, she had to relive it by having to do a question and answer section. Pleading with them, Buffy begged them to move on to another topic or start practice. Oz noticed her discomfort and helped direct Faith and Xander’s attention elsewhere. For the next two hours, Buffy threw herself into learning the new work and pushed the memories from last night to the back of her brain.

Across town, a certain blonde head paced impatiently in his living room. Cursing himself for never getting her name, then cursing himself for drinking so much whiskey that he had forgotten to act like he was a civilized human being. One glance from the stage and Spike was entranced for the remainder of the night. His dick had taken over, attacking the stunning beauty like he was a cave man. “Hell, it’s a sodding wonder that I didn’t just conk her over the head and drag her back to my bloody flat!” he fumed, kicking his leg out and striking the edge of the coffee table, sending Dru’s magazines scattering to the floor. After he had gotten home, Drusilla was waiting up for him in the kitchen; he noticed that her bags were still packed and sitting in the foyer. Briefly he had thought that it would be easier if she would just leave, making him feel worse for cheating on her at the bar. They had been together so long, that if felt like over a hundred years of fighting and loving one another. Spike had never thought that another woman would ever consume him, until he found his ray of sunlight. Guilt and liquor had him in a rather foul mood when he saw Dru, it was over before it ever began. Tears were shed, hateful words were screamed. When it was all said and done, his dark princess called it quits and walked out of his life for good. Deep inside, Spike knew he should feel worse. When the phone rang a while later, Spike had no problem accepting the job opportunity given to him. Tomorrow he would be leaving for six months to do private security for yet another overly rich individual that had gotten themselves into a fine mess. Lighting a cigarette, he settled onto the couch and prayed that things would be better when he returned.