Life Serial Revisited
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
4,062
Reviews:
24
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
4,062
Reviews:
24
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 9: Just Shut Up
* * * * *
Chapter 9: Just Shut Up
* * * * *
I bet I could do it without falling off. I’m the Slayer. Yeah. She of the great coordination. Very strong, very bendy. I could do it. Plus, I’ve seen it on TV.
“Spike.” He jumps a little. Guess it’s been quiet for a little while. We’re outside town, cruising down the coastline. I can smell the salt.
“Yeah, Slayer?” His voice is right near my ear. Makes my whole body go a little numb. I forget where I was going with...oh yeah, the coat.
“I’m going to take your coat off, ‘kay?” I fehe bhe bike slowing down. “No, no! Speed back up!”
“What, luv? Thought you wanted to take the coat off?” We are back at the same speed.
“Yeah, but I can do it while we’re moving.” A low chuckle gives me goosebumps.
His lips brush my ear when he replies, “You want to do it while we’re moving?” Oh good God. I can just see that eyebrow cocked up. The things I say.
“Yeah.” I try to sound all sure of myself but it sounds like a breath. Like I’m feeling weak in the knees...which yeah, I am. He smiles back. I don’t know how I know that.
I can picture his smile in my mind’s eye, cheekbones sharpening with that devil’s grin. Humina humina. I tighten my grip on the bike with my thighs and start wriggling. After a few seconds, I get one arm free.
“Yay!” I giggle, and notice Spike has gone awfully quiet. And still. Huh. I squirm out of the other arm of the duster. Knew I wouldn’t fall off. Ha! I glance to the side and see Spike’s arms, looking all vein-y. Looks like he’s holding on kinda tight. Yup, white knuckles, too.
Now for the tricky part. I lean forward, putting one hand down on the tank thingie in front of me and whip the coat out from under me with the other. Whoa, swervy! “Yipes! ~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Buffy! Damn, woman, warn me next time, eh?” She’s going to get us both bloody killed. Well, hurt, at least. She’s driving me mad. First with the wiggling. Then, she lifts up that tight little ass right in front of me and then, blinds me with my own coat. But did I mention the ass? Tasty morsel, that. Probably had more to do with the bike swerving than the flying duster. And now what’s she gonna do?
Oh-kay. She’s sitting back down slowly and now I realize how little there is between us with the duster gone. Fuck. Warm, pressed up snug, smelling fantastic. And yes, right between my legs. This was a fucking fantastic idea. No, really. It was. One of my best.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh, this is good. Good good good. I wriggle into his lap and hear him bite back a moan. Oh yeah. But now, I’ve got this coat in one hand. What’m I gonna do with it? I look around, but there is nowhere to stick it. Hmm. OH! Shoulda thought of this before.
“Want your coat back, Spikey?” Spikey? That’s new. Not usually out loud with that one. I’ll be callin’ him Sweetcheeks before ya know it. ‘Cause, yeah. Those cheeks are rather suh-weeet.
“Sure, luv. Hold up this time, okay? Hate to end a fun evening with a close encounter with the highway.” The bike slows down slightly as Spike looks for somewhere to pull over.
“End? Just getting started, aren’t we?” When did I have the filter removed from my mouth? Musta been sometime during that bottle o’ booze at the bar. Only explanation. Oh, that, and the hotness that is Spike. I grab on tight as we hit gravel and the bike wavers.
Crunching over the gravel for a minute on the bike, we end up near the top of a path that leads down to the beach. Spike has the bike steady, his legs on the ground when he kills the engine.
“Wow, it’s quiet. And I’m not.” I drop my voice quickly. “Sorry. Now, lessee, I was gonna give you back your coat. Still want it?” Buffy, holy moley. You sooo want him.
“You know I do.” His voice is thick and gives me...ideas.
“Hold the bike still, ‘kay? Don’t want to land on my butt again.” Here goes nothin.’ I stand up a little, feet on something on the bike. Who knows, peg thingies, I guess. With a couple of moves that would not get me a spot in the ballet, I somehow manage to get myself turned around on the bike, so I’m facing Spike. He’s been real quiet-like. I look down at him from my half-standing position.
Damn. Goodbye frying pan, hel-LO fire.
He’s staring at me. His arms have gone out to hold the handlebars on either side of me, so I’m trapped. Like an animal. And he looks hungry.
Good thing I am, too. I lick my lips.
“There, now I can help you put your coat...”
“Sod the bloody coat, Slayer.” Um, is it getting warm out here or what? His eyes are so damn intense. Insides turning to jell-o. I smile a little. Lean a little closer, nearly touching him.
“Okay. I’ll just put it back here.” My voice, surprisingly steady. Not so drunky-poo. Though since I just thought ‘drunky-poo,’ I’d say I still am a bit. I drape the coat over the seat behind him. Just as I start to move back, I start to lose my balance. And then I’m still. Huh.
Oh. Spike. Spike’s got me. More to the point, hands of Spike holding on to my waist. Really tight. I meet his eyes, still looking down at him.
“What...um, thanks. Um.” Nice. Eloquent. Smooth, Buffy.
He smiles and it’s....well...so much for these panties. “Slayer at a loss fords.rds. Never thought I’d see the...”
Oh shut up. And by the way, fuck it. Fuck the rules and the worries and the oh no, I shouldn’ts. Mid-word, I grab his face and plant my mouth on his, tender and hard all at once. The grip of his hands threatens to crush me. I startled him. Yay me.
Foreheads touching, I let up for a second and whisper, “Just shut up, Spike. Okay?”
I don’t let him answer, just go back in for more and...stars. I can’t believe it. I’m seeing stars. Thought that only happened in movies and angsty teen ballads. His mouth is amazing. Soft soft lips, but firm. Pressing, tasting. A little tentative. God, I’m melting. I touch his mouth with my tongue and it opens. Like magic. Our tongues meet in the middle and it’s like...I expect to hear music. Or like I just got something I’ve been asking for for years. A pony or something equally unrealistic. That’s Spike. Wanting him is so unrealistic, but it doesn’t make me want him less.
I’m still kinda standing, so I swing one leg up and around his waist. And then the other. Thank god we are both freakishly strong and flexible. He manages to hold onto me. So damn hot. And hard. He is so hard. His chest against mine, plastered together. And yes ma’am, muscles are not the only hard thing I’m feeling.
We break for air and Spike is out of breath. He that doesn’t breathe is panting like he ran a marathon. “Buffy.” Just says it. I feel dizzy. Can’t tell if it’s the booze or the kisses.
“Present,” I smile at him, our eyes so close together I can see flecks of the moon in his.
“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but luv, you’ve been drinking. I can’t...” The pain on his face is achingly sweet. I kiss his nose. ‘Cause it’s right there. Then I press my fingers against his mouth, stopping the words.
“Know what I’m doing. Just tipsy.” I press my mouth to his lightly. Breathe the next bit right into his mouth. Making him swallow it. “Makes me brave. Makes me take what I want. What I’ve wanted...” I lick my lips and bring them back to his. Let my hands comes to rest on his upper arms. Ooh, biceps. And he doesn’t even work out. I taste him. Faint taste of smoke and liquor. Normally not my fave thing, but on him, it works. Goes with the image, I guess. My hands squeeze, telegraphing how I want him in a code I made up just now.
On the next breather, mouths almost still touching, he meets my eyes. “You’re sure?” I could die in these arms. So yes.
“I’m sure. Now just kiss me some more, ‘kay?” I smile at him. And there’s that grin I like in reply. The one I pretend to hate. Only thing I hate about it is how helpless I feel when he flashes it. How my body floods with moist warmth. Now I think it’s good.
And I think I’m sobering up. Even better. Now I’ll remember this clearly tomorrow. Something about the closeness is making my mind focus at a dramatic rate. Slayer healing works on liquor? Weird. My fingers skate up his arms, grazing his neck and diving into his hair. Loosen those curls he tries to fight.
“You got it, luv.” His hands move off my hips, around my back and he pulls me back against him, crushing us together. Guess I convinced him. The next kiss sends shivers up my spine. I thought the first ones were good. This one makes me want to cry, it is so tender. So so...god, I...he loves me. I believe him so much now. I knew he did and he shows it in a million little ways, but I’ve never felt it cover my skin like this. Like warmth, like safety. I’ve never let him really show me.
Until now.
Chapter 9: Just Shut Up
* * * * *
I bet I could do it without falling off. I’m the Slayer. Yeah. She of the great coordination. Very strong, very bendy. I could do it. Plus, I’ve seen it on TV.
“Spike.” He jumps a little. Guess it’s been quiet for a little while. We’re outside town, cruising down the coastline. I can smell the salt.
“Yeah, Slayer?” His voice is right near my ear. Makes my whole body go a little numb. I forget where I was going with...oh yeah, the coat.
“I’m going to take your coat off, ‘kay?” I fehe bhe bike slowing down. “No, no! Speed back up!”
“What, luv? Thought you wanted to take the coat off?” We are back at the same speed.
“Yeah, but I can do it while we’re moving.” A low chuckle gives me goosebumps.
His lips brush my ear when he replies, “You want to do it while we’re moving?” Oh good God. I can just see that eyebrow cocked up. The things I say.
“Yeah.” I try to sound all sure of myself but it sounds like a breath. Like I’m feeling weak in the knees...which yeah, I am. He smiles back. I don’t know how I know that.
I can picture his smile in my mind’s eye, cheekbones sharpening with that devil’s grin. Humina humina. I tighten my grip on the bike with my thighs and start wriggling. After a few seconds, I get one arm free.
“Yay!” I giggle, and notice Spike has gone awfully quiet. And still. Huh. I squirm out of the other arm of the duster. Knew I wouldn’t fall off. Ha! I glance to the side and see Spike’s arms, looking all vein-y. Looks like he’s holding on kinda tight. Yup, white knuckles, too.
Now for the tricky part. I lean forward, putting one hand down on the tank thingie in front of me and whip the coat out from under me with the other. Whoa, swervy! “Yipes! ~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Buffy! Damn, woman, warn me next time, eh?” She’s going to get us both bloody killed. Well, hurt, at least. She’s driving me mad. First with the wiggling. Then, she lifts up that tight little ass right in front of me and then, blinds me with my own coat. But did I mention the ass? Tasty morsel, that. Probably had more to do with the bike swerving than the flying duster. And now what’s she gonna do?
Oh-kay. She’s sitting back down slowly and now I realize how little there is between us with the duster gone. Fuck. Warm, pressed up snug, smelling fantastic. And yes, right between my legs. This was a fucking fantastic idea. No, really. It was. One of my best.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh, this is good. Good good good. I wriggle into his lap and hear him bite back a moan. Oh yeah. But now, I’ve got this coat in one hand. What’m I gonna do with it? I look around, but there is nowhere to stick it. Hmm. OH! Shoulda thought of this before.
“Want your coat back, Spikey?” Spikey? That’s new. Not usually out loud with that one. I’ll be callin’ him Sweetcheeks before ya know it. ‘Cause, yeah. Those cheeks are rather suh-weeet.
“Sure, luv. Hold up this time, okay? Hate to end a fun evening with a close encounter with the highway.” The bike slows down slightly as Spike looks for somewhere to pull over.
“End? Just getting started, aren’t we?” When did I have the filter removed from my mouth? Musta been sometime during that bottle o’ booze at the bar. Only explanation. Oh, that, and the hotness that is Spike. I grab on tight as we hit gravel and the bike wavers.
Crunching over the gravel for a minute on the bike, we end up near the top of a path that leads down to the beach. Spike has the bike steady, his legs on the ground when he kills the engine.
“Wow, it’s quiet. And I’m not.” I drop my voice quickly. “Sorry. Now, lessee, I was gonna give you back your coat. Still want it?” Buffy, holy moley. You sooo want him.
“You know I do.” His voice is thick and gives me...ideas.
“Hold the bike still, ‘kay? Don’t want to land on my butt again.” Here goes nothin.’ I stand up a little, feet on something on the bike. Who knows, peg thingies, I guess. With a couple of moves that would not get me a spot in the ballet, I somehow manage to get myself turned around on the bike, so I’m facing Spike. He’s been real quiet-like. I look down at him from my half-standing position.
Damn. Goodbye frying pan, hel-LO fire.
He’s staring at me. His arms have gone out to hold the handlebars on either side of me, so I’m trapped. Like an animal. And he looks hungry.
Good thing I am, too. I lick my lips.
“There, now I can help you put your coat...”
“Sod the bloody coat, Slayer.” Um, is it getting warm out here or what? His eyes are so damn intense. Insides turning to jell-o. I smile a little. Lean a little closer, nearly touching him.
“Okay. I’ll just put it back here.” My voice, surprisingly steady. Not so drunky-poo. Though since I just thought ‘drunky-poo,’ I’d say I still am a bit. I drape the coat over the seat behind him. Just as I start to move back, I start to lose my balance. And then I’m still. Huh.
Oh. Spike. Spike’s got me. More to the point, hands of Spike holding on to my waist. Really tight. I meet his eyes, still looking down at him.
“What...um, thanks. Um.” Nice. Eloquent. Smooth, Buffy.
He smiles and it’s....well...so much for these panties. “Slayer at a loss fords.rds. Never thought I’d see the...”
Oh shut up. And by the way, fuck it. Fuck the rules and the worries and the oh no, I shouldn’ts. Mid-word, I grab his face and plant my mouth on his, tender and hard all at once. The grip of his hands threatens to crush me. I startled him. Yay me.
Foreheads touching, I let up for a second and whisper, “Just shut up, Spike. Okay?”
I don’t let him answer, just go back in for more and...stars. I can’t believe it. I’m seeing stars. Thought that only happened in movies and angsty teen ballads. His mouth is amazing. Soft soft lips, but firm. Pressing, tasting. A little tentative. God, I’m melting. I touch his mouth with my tongue and it opens. Like magic. Our tongues meet in the middle and it’s like...I expect to hear music. Or like I just got something I’ve been asking for for years. A pony or something equally unrealistic. That’s Spike. Wanting him is so unrealistic, but it doesn’t make me want him less.
I’m still kinda standing, so I swing one leg up and around his waist. And then the other. Thank god we are both freakishly strong and flexible. He manages to hold onto me. So damn hot. And hard. He is so hard. His chest against mine, plastered together. And yes ma’am, muscles are not the only hard thing I’m feeling.
We break for air and Spike is out of breath. He that doesn’t breathe is panting like he ran a marathon. “Buffy.” Just says it. I feel dizzy. Can’t tell if it’s the booze or the kisses.
“Present,” I smile at him, our eyes so close together I can see flecks of the moon in his.
“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but luv, you’ve been drinking. I can’t...” The pain on his face is achingly sweet. I kiss his nose. ‘Cause it’s right there. Then I press my fingers against his mouth, stopping the words.
“Know what I’m doing. Just tipsy.” I press my mouth to his lightly. Breathe the next bit right into his mouth. Making him swallow it. “Makes me brave. Makes me take what I want. What I’ve wanted...” I lick my lips and bring them back to his. Let my hands comes to rest on his upper arms. Ooh, biceps. And he doesn’t even work out. I taste him. Faint taste of smoke and liquor. Normally not my fave thing, but on him, it works. Goes with the image, I guess. My hands squeeze, telegraphing how I want him in a code I made up just now.
On the next breather, mouths almost still touching, he meets my eyes. “You’re sure?” I could die in these arms. So yes.
“I’m sure. Now just kiss me some more, ‘kay?” I smile at him. And there’s that grin I like in reply. The one I pretend to hate. Only thing I hate about it is how helpless I feel when he flashes it. How my body floods with moist warmth. Now I think it’s good.
And I think I’m sobering up. Even better. Now I’ll remember this clearly tomorrow. Something about the closeness is making my mind focus at a dramatic rate. Slayer healing works on liquor? Weird. My fingers skate up his arms, grazing his neck and diving into his hair. Loosen those curls he tries to fight.
“You got it, luv.” His hands move off my hips, around my back and he pulls me back against him, crushing us together. Guess I convinced him. The next kiss sends shivers up my spine. I thought the first ones were good. This one makes me want to cry, it is so tender. So so...god, I...he loves me. I believe him so much now. I knew he did and he shows it in a million little ways, but I’ve never felt it cover my skin like this. Like warmth, like safety. I’ve never let him really show me.
Until now.